The Unexpected
by Lady of Pride
Summary: Toby's always lived his life by the natural laws - laws of science and reason. The sudden disappearance of his newborn nephew, however, brings to light a whole new meaning of reality, one which was created by the Labyrinth and its king...
1. The fatal wish

A/N: After watching "Labyrinth" for the first time three days ago, I found myself mulling over Jareth's intriguing personality. Sarah was able to rile up his regal grace without breaking a sweat, so I couldn't help but wonder...how would an older Toby react to the Goblin Kingdom and its infamous king if he ever found himself taking an unexpected visit to the Underground?

On a side note, this is not a slash. Just a fic for my little sister...and _yodelabyhoo_, who, in truth, knows Jareth and Toby better than I do…

Title: The Unexpected (Chapter One)

Fandom: Labyrinth

Spoilers: The movie

Rating: Pg-13

Prompts/Challenges: (the list is written at the bottom of the page)

Disclaimer: I think it would be neat to own the Labyrinth, but I don't. I have absolutely no claim over it or anything related to Jim Henson's work.

Length: approximately 5,040 words

Timeline: Takes place _**twenty-two**__ years_ after the movie

Summary: _Toby's always lived his life by the natural laws of science and reason. The sudden disappearance of his newborn nephew, however, brings to light a whole new meaning of reality…_

Thanksgiving was somehow colder than he remembered.

He stopped in the doorway and dropped his suitcase before turning to shut the door. It wasn't windy outside but the chill in the air was more than enough to make his bones ache and he involuntarily shivered before the warmth of the room had a chance to sink in. He paused, took a moment to enjoy the heat, and somehow managed to smile a little as he turned to greet his mother.

"How was the flight?"

"Alright," he murmured quietly. There was an itch in his throat that forewarned a cold but he knew it was for the best that he didn't let his mother know. She'd smother him the entire week if she thought he was sick. And chastise him. Endlessly.

Toby kissed her on the cheek and held her briefly as his father descended into the living room. The man was able to snatch up his suitcase before Toby could step back from his mother, winking as he turned to take it upstairs.

The house looked very much the same as he remembered it. It was warm and inviting and the old furniture has been kept up by his mother's natural diligence to preserve everything. The curtains were different, though, having been replaced by white drapes, and the wall was a pale blue instead of the old floral print his mother chose many years ago.

There was no place like home.

His mother gave him a small pat on his cheek before retreating to the kitchen to finish cooking dinner. The old grandfather clock in the corner chimed the hour as Toby started up the stairs after his father.

"I can carry my things, dad."

"How's Susan?" his father asked, completely side-stepping the request as he reached the top step.

Toby followed close behind but didn't make a grab for his case. It felt strange to be home again after so many months. His mother usually fused over him and his father never gave him the chance to wear himself out, but Toby knew it was all for the best.

"Susan's fine," Toby replied as they reached what was once his old room. "She's at her cousin's baby shower."

"When's she coming?"

"I'm picking her up at the airport tomorrow morning…"

As his father flicked on the light switch, Toby couldn't help but pause and stare. His room had been changed for a while now but he'd never get over the awkward sensation he felt whenever he entered the strange room. He'd never forget his childhood...not the dragons or the princesses from his sister's fairytales or the long lost children from her story books.

The walls were painted a lighter shade of green and the spaceship stickers his father pasted all over the wall when he was six had disappeared. In place of the small double bed there now stood a queen-size, and his old painted dresser was replaced by some tall black thing with drawers. His mother put a few paintings over the walls to hide the tack marks from his posters, and it looked…

…exactly like a guest bedroom.

Toby tried his best not to sigh as his father went on to talk about the weather. It wasn't as though his parents decided to get rid of all his things…

Toby did.

'Once upon a time' he believed in Sarah's stories. She was an author now (and was busy raising a family of her own) but she never outgrew fairytales the same way he did. She almost seemed a little sad when he stopped asking her to read him bedtime stories.

Maybe he changed just for the sake of being different? He loved Sarah but he needed something that was all his own, something that didn't require the same creative flare his sister possessed. Toby was…well, he was pretty dull these days. He had no creative 'flare' or 'spark' to speak of.

"How's work?"

Toby's head snapped up at the sudden change in conversation. He had all of three seconds to interpret the question in his boggled mind before his father raised his left eyebrow curiously.

"Wonderful, actually. Very…stimulating."

His father shook his head. "I suppose if you can consider Immunology 'stimulating'."

Toby couldn't help but frown at his father's choice of words. "A day in the lab might not be as exciting as a roller coaster ride but the research saves lives."

"I'm not disagreeing with you," his father replied quickly, reflexively putting up his hands in mock defence. "I'm just saying…you used to enjoy playing the piano, you know? Now you never touch it."

…That was only half-true. His mother used to make him play (which, in the beginning, had born a sort of hatred for the instrument in his heart) but Toby found a natural joy in listening to music. Sarah used to sing to him when he was younger and he would sing too, but now…

"I have stage-fright."

"Doesn't everyone?"

"It's not the same—"

"I know, I know…" His father took a seat on his edge of his bed and patted the empty spot beside him. Toby took care not to knock his suitcase off the mattress as he sat down. "I guess it makes sense, you know. I have two children, both of which are almost entirely different. Sarah might be fiery and restless, but you're more reserved, I guess…more down to earth. There's nothing wrong with that."

Toby folded his hands over his lap and stared at them. He felt like a child again—how old is he? Five or twenty three…?

"When is she coming?"

"She's already here."

Toby's head snapped up.

"She and Samuel already set up shop in her room. He had to run to town to pick up a few things for dinner but Sarah's upstairs. She's asleep with the baby."

Something tugged at the corner of his lips and Toby couldn't help but smile. Baby Johnny was almost a month old and he was beginning to associate what he heard with what he saw. Sarah loved to sing to him, and Toby…he was a little nervous around the babe (it was such a small, fragile thing…) but he loved the kid to bits. He hadn't seen Jonathon since he came to visit Sarah in the hospital.

He was somewhat surprised that Sarah and her husband hadn't started a family earlier. Sarah always wanted to have kids but she never seemed to have the time to stop and sort her life out when she first began publishing her children books. Now, however, she said she couldn't bear the thought of living another day without her precious little newborn son, her enthusiastic, eight-year-old daughter Kimberly, or her quiet, middle-child Jacob.

"Do you think she would mind if I popped in to say hello?"

His father chuckled warm heartedly and patted his knee before standing. "I don't see why not. She's missed you, Toby."

-1-Toby-1-

He found her lying half-asleep in the center of her bed, Toby's old cradle set up near the door for the new baby. Johnny was currently lying asleep in the crook of his mother's arm, pressed close to her chest as she gazed lovingly down at him, eye's half-lidded with fatigue.

She looked divine.

"I can come back later…" Toby murmured quietly, peeking his head through the small gap in the door to catch her attention. He considered leaving her alone until supper but he hadn't seen her in so long…

"You know…I was just thinking about you."

When Sarah glanced up at him, Toby couldn't help but smile. His father once told him that she was something of a hot head when she was younger, always quick to judge and little spiteful in her retaliations, but that all changed one day when Toby was just a babe. Nobody knew what brought upon the change but no one could really complain…

Toby was careful not to make too much noise as he crept into the room and stole a spot on the edge of the bed. He wrapped her in a one-armed hug and leaned back to stare at the sleeping babe. The bit of hair on the baby's head was dark.

Toby hoped he turned out to look like his mother.

Sarah had always had dark hair and dark eyes but her soft features sharpened somewhat when she grew up, much like Toby's had a few years back. His hair had always been blonde in comparison to hers, his eyes blue where hers were brown, but they shared the same nose and the same eyebrows. Toby's complexion was fair, like his mother's, but they both looked very much like their father.

"You look exhausted," Sarah said quietly, tugging at the hem of his dark green turtle-neck with her free hand. The fabric was still cold, almost as though it dragged in the evening chill when he arrived.

"You should be one to speak."

Her eyes lit up at his smile and she shook her head before gazing down at her babe. "How was the flight?"

"Long. Susan was supposed to come with me earlier, but her cousin changed the plans for her baby shower at the last moment."

"I'm surprised you didn't drive here."

Toby quirked his eyebrow slightly. It made Sarah laugh.

"I'm just saying, you used to be afraid of heights. I thought you didn't like flying."

"I'm only afraid when I'm falling."

Sarah laughed again and the baby began to stir. Luckily, he didn't cry, just opened his eyes slightly and looked up at his mother.

"Hey, baby," his mother crooned "I don't suppose you remember Uncle Toby?"

"Tom," Toby corrected quietly; ashamed. "Everyone calls me Tommy..."

Sarah looked mildly annoyed. "But why? What's wrong with Toby?"

"It was just a vain attempt to pick up a nickname, you know. You can't exactly break down 'Toby'. That gives you…what, 'Tob'?"

"Might as well call you Thomas then. You can't exactly break down my name either, silly."

Actually, it was something of a mistake on his colleagues' behalf. People at work mistakenly called him 'Tommy' instead of 'Toby', and since he was never much of an outspoken person in public he just let the name slide. He was afraid Sarah might be a little disappointed in him if he told her the truth. She knew how to stand up for herself.

Toby was…a bit timid in social settings, to say the least. He didn't have the nerve to stand up to people; didn't know how to say 'No'.

"Well, I suppose if that's what you want…" She pouted a little and tried to look innocent, "…Can I still call you Toby?"

"However often you like."

"Well then, Toby Williams, would you mind holding the baby? I should probably change for dinner."

He looked over her pyjama pants and loose t-shirt, and nodded before holding out his arms to collect the warm bundle. He sat there, stalk-still and quiet, as Sarah slipped off the bed and snatched a few things from her suitcase before tiptoeing out into the hall to the washroom. Johnny was silent. His eyelids flickered open for a moment, almost returning from his dream world, before drifting back to sleep. He squirmed, fingers closing into tiny little fists, and settled down again peacefully.

Toby smiled at the little babe and then he remembered…

Wasn't there a story about a babe? A boy, perhaps, that was rescued from the Goblin King by his older sister?

Toby bounced the baby gently in his arm as he tried to think. Was it a story his sister or wrote, or was it one of the ones that inspired her? Sarah had a collection of books she used to read to him when he was younger. Maybe it was somewhere in her bookcase.

Careful not to wake his nephew, Toby lifted himself to his feet as gently as possible and carried the baby with him over to the bookshelf in the corner. Sarah's toys were gone (mostly boxed up and stored away in the attic) but a few trinkets were left in the room, just a couple of figurines and her book collection. She had some board games stashed under her bed for her two older children to play with during the thanksgiving holiday, but everything else was gone.

Eyes skimming the titles, he tried desperately to remember the name of the story in question. It was something about a maze…

The moment he saw it, he knew it was the book he was looking for. It was one of Sarah's favourites: _The Labyrinth_.

The red spine was torn at one corner, the once-glimmering letters dulled by dust and other grime from seeing so many years of use. Sarah was thirteen years older than him—he wondered how long she'd had the book…

Toby was tempted to take a look but he knew he'd have plenty of time to read it later. His mother would probably nag at him if she found out he was still interested in Sarah's old tales. After all, it was his mother that tried to keep him from growing up to be like her stepdaughter. His leash had been a tight one thanks to Sarah.

"Uncle Toby?"

Startled, he turned his head quickly and stared at the door. Jacob was standing there, dressed in shorts and an overly large sweater—possibly his fathers. In his arms he cradled their pet cat Jinx (who was, in Toby's opinion, unnaturally _fat_) very much the same way Toby was hold the baby.

The feline turned its half-lidded eyes on Toby, head lulling back lazily from its awkward position in the child's arms. The cat was accustomed to being manhandled by the children.

"Jacob, you're going to drop the cat."

"Sorry," he murmured, struggling to hold the cat properly—before it leapt from his arms and sauntered down the hallway with all the pomp and grace of its species.

"…Is there something I can help you with?"

"I need to find my mom."

"She's getting changed. What do you need?"

"Dad's on the phone," the boy replied, referring to Toby's brother-in-law, Samuel. "He said someone crashed into him."

Toby gaped at the six-year-old boy before his mind registered the statement. Quietly, he carried the babe to the cradle by the door and settled the newborn down before following Jacob out into the hall. Half racing down the stairs, he could hear his father in the kitchen, talking on the phone.

"—fifteen minutes. I'm just getting Sarah right now—_Jacob_!"

Toby turned the corner at the bottom of the stairs and halted in the dining area, only a step behind his nephew. His father jumped at the sudden appearance of his grandson and stared at him curiously.

"I thought told you to get your mother. Where is she?"

"Don't know."

"Jacob, I don't have time to—"

"_I'm here_!" Toby had only a second to step aside as his sister darted into the room, stealing the receiver from her father before speaking to her husband, "Samuel, what's going on?…Uh-huh…_How_?"

"Broke his leg," his father explained as he stepped up beside Toby. His mother stood by the stove, stirring the gravy idly as she watched Sarah on the phone. "I'm going with Sarah to the hospital. Do you think you can help mum watch the kids tonight?"

"No problem," he whispered, eyes trained on his sister's worried expression. She looked terrible…

Jacob quietly sidled up on Toby's other side and took hold of his uncle's hand. All Toby could do was watch mutely as Sarah hung up the phone and ran to grab her jacket. Their father dashed into the living-room to find his keys.

"I guess it's just us and the kids tonight," his mother sighed. She'd always been a little harsh on Sarah but Toby knew she cared for the girl and her husband…she just had an odd way of showing it… "You might want to wash up and find Kimberly. Dinner will be ready soon."

" 'Kay, mum…"

"And find the baby chair, will you? You father forgot to bring it up from the basement."

" 'Kay, mum…"

So much for the holiday…

-2-Toby-2-

"Can you read us a story?"

"In a minute, Kim. I'm on the phone with your mother."

Kimberly frowned and crossed her arms, trying to look as indignantly as she most possibly could for someone her age. If Sarah wasn't careful, her daughter was going to grow up to be just like her.

"_I hope the kids aren't causing you any trouble."_

"None at all," he replied, adding an extra dash of sweetness to his voice as he ruffled Kimberly's hair. The look she gave him _then_ was priceless. "They're behaving like perfect little angels."

"_You've always been a horrible liar, Toby."_

"True. How's Samuel doing?"

Sarah sighed wearily on the other end of the line, somehow managing to sound as the weight of the whole world was literally resting on her shoulders. _"Fine, thankfully. He doesn't need surgery, just a cast. We should be home in an hour."_

"How's the other driver?"

"_You mean the drunken idiot? He doesn't have a scratch on him."_

"How much does he owe you?"

"_A lot. He's—"_

"Uncle _Tobyyyyyyy_!"

"Kimberly, not now!"

"_Is that Kim? Tell her if she isn't in bed by time I count to five, she's not going to have any of the cake mommy's planning to bake tomorrow afternoon."_

"But she won't hear you."

"_All the same, it'll work."_

"I trust your judgment," he laughed. Looking down at his niece, he put on a stern face. "Kimberly, mommy says you have until the count of five to get upstairs. Otherwise, you won't get any cake tomorrow."

"I don't believe you," she retorted, stomping her foot as she crossed her arms. She looked too cute to be menacing.

Calmly, he held out the receiver for her to take. She didn't grab it, but they could both hear the faint _'One!'_ his mother shouted through phone before his niece scrambled up the stairs.

"…Do all mothers have mystical powers?" Toby asked as he returned to the conversation.

"_Only the ones who believe in magic."_

"I see…"

"_I have to go now, Toby. Is everything alright over there?"_

"Fine and dandy. My mother fed the baby and put him to sleep an hour ago. She had a migraine, so she went to lie down." He glanced at the clock: 8:07. "Your kids, of course, are wide awake, but that won't be for long."

"_I could cast a spell on them for you, if you'd like?"_

"That won't be necessary. I'll just read them a story."

"_Don't read 'Alice in Wonderland'. Jacob gets all these ideas in his head that Jinx is the Cheshire cat."_

"Duly noted. Goodbye Sarah."

"_See you soon."_

He waited until she hung up before turning off the mobile phone, carrying it up with him to his sister's room. He leaned over the crib to glance at the sleeping baby before tiptoeing over to the bookshelf.

_The Labyrinth_ was the first book that caught his eye.

He didn't know why he was drawn to the story. It always felt so real to him whenever Sarah read it to him—or maybe Sarah was the key to its reality. She was the one that brought it to life. She was the one that made him want see the Goblin Kingdom, to challenge the Goblin king and brave the labyrinth when he was a child.

Jacob and Kimberly would love it.

He reached up to grab the book but it was wedged in good between the many other volumes lined up on either side. He has to toss the mobile phone on the bed and use both his hands to tug it out quietly.

The baby stirred about the same time he pulled it free.

Toby licked his lips nervously and crept back to the crib. He remembered accidentally waking Jacob once when he was just a babe and it took Sarah forever to put him back to sleep. Johnny seemed to be more peaceful than either of two his siblings, but Toby didn't want to try his luck…

Toby reached into the crib with one hand to brush his thumb against the baby's cheek. "I wish you could see your mother's world…" he whispered before taking a step back. "I wish you could see the Labyrinth."

He ended up stepping on the cat.

Jinx hollered as though the devil himself suddenly had materialized in the room and Toby nearly yelled as his heart jumped up into his throat. The baby made a small moaning sound as it stirred but it didn't wake.

He bumped the cat with the toe of his shoe into the hallway and made sure to close the door behind him as he stepped out after it, book in hand. "Stay the hell out of there," he hissed at the feline as it scampered off to wreck havoc elsewhere.

He paused for a moment with his back against the door, trying to even out his breath as his heart continued to race. He didn't know why he was still so nervous, so edgy. He felt as though he was forgetting something important…

Then the phone rang.

Inside the room.

Startled, he turned quickly to open the door and dashed back inside in hope of answering the phone before it had a chance to wake the baby. The baby, however, didn't make a sound and the phone, which he was sure he left on the bed, was now lying on the floor.

Cautiously, he knelt down to the pick up the phone and stared at the small glowing screen above the dialling numbers. It read _'ringer volume on high'_ as though someone had been fooling around with the buttons.

Toby felt a chill run up along his spine. In all the years that he lived in this house as a child, he never _once_ thought the place was haunted.

What was he thinking? Of course it wasn't haunted. Ghosts and spirits and angry little demons _didn't_ exist. The phone probably just fell off the bed…

He bit his lower lip nervously but felt relieved when he remembered the baby. Johnny was one hell of a sleeper…

Of course, it would've been nice to confirm that idea _if_ the baby was still, in fact, fast asleep in the crib.

The panic he experienced thanks to the cat and the phone paled in comparison to the sheer terror he suffered just then. The baby was gone as well as his blanket that his grandmother wrapped him in only an hour ago. The crib was entirely empty and Toby's newborn nephew was nowhere in sight.

"Oh my God—"

Something move directly behind him and Toby began to panic again. Turning sharply on his heel, he caught a glimpse of a furry leg as something small and pudgy scurried under the bed. Part of him wondered if it was the cat, but Jinx was round and orange and that _thing_ was…well…

Toby didn't pause to think about his decision as he dove down to catch whatever is was that came into the room. Sarah would never forgive him if she found out he let some weird rat-thing eat her baby.

"Come _back_ _here_, you little—"

"_Ah! Let go!"_

He was more than halfway under the bed when his hand closed around something that resembled a small claw-like foot. It was dark, he couldn't see worth a darn and he was damn well sure that that squeaky little voice didn't come from him.

"I want my nephew back!" he yelled, not quite caring if the thing bit him. "If you don't give him to me, so help me, God—"

"_Okay! Okay!"_ it shrieked, struggling helplessly to break free. The noise hurt his ears. _"I'll take you to him! I swear!"_

"_Now_!" Toby ordered.

And then the floor opened up beneath him.

The shrieking, squirming, rat-like thing fell with him and they tumbled a short distance through the air before Toby's body connected with the ground. The wind was knocked out of him and there was dirt in his eyes, but as soon as he got up on his knees he could breathe again. Rubbing his eyes, he realized that there was a light shining down upon him.

When he looked up, it took him a moment to realize there was a trapdoor hanging open about ten feet above his head. It was an old iron gate that slammed itself up and shut again almost as though by magic, locking him away from the anomalous bright light.

…This couldn't be right. It just wasn't possible…

"…Where am I?"

The creature that brought him there was sitting somewhere in the dark, just outside the reach of the blinding light. It moaned, cussed under its breath and then answered his question, "We're in an oubliette…"

…Which meant his only way out is through the trapdoor above him...

What the hell was an oubliette doing under Sarah's bed?

"What…How…I don't understand!"

"It's my fault, actually," the thing muttered apologetically. "You weren't in the room after you made the wish, so the other's just took the babe and ran. I just found that weird little glowing thing, and I'm not too good at traveling alone but…" it paused, then cursed again, "…Jareth's not going to be too happy about this."

"Who the hell is Jareth?" Toby snapped, feeling more outraged than frightened at the moment. The fact that he _could_ be in another dimension hadn't quite settled in just yet. "And why did you take my nephew?!"

"_You_ made the wish," it snorted matter-of-factly.

"_What_ wish?!"

It cleared its throat as though it was about to recite a long poem, and said, " '_I wish you could see your mother's world. I wish you could see the Labyrinth._' There! That's what _you_ said, so don't go telling me otherwise! It's nobody's fault but yours…"

The Labyrinth.

_The_ Labyrinth.

Toby's heart almost stopped. _This_ was Sarah's world? This was the place where babies were kidnapped by the Goblin king?

Was that who Jareth was—the Goblin king? Or was he one of the other characters? Wasn't there some small dog-like knight or…or…_something_?!

Toby couldn't remember…

His shoulders slumped and he rested a hand across his eyes, blocking the blinding light as he tried desperately to hold back his tears.

What had he done…?

-3-The Goblins-3-

They didn't usually act upon impulse in the Aboveground but _this_, they felt, was a special case. Their majesty was too busy those days to watch the girl forever, but they…they still admired the brave little woman that beat the Labyrinth. She grew up, got married and had children…the magic in her heart and mind was no longer channelled through silly little dreams and wishes. Instead, she vented her energy and her power into stories—wonderful, beautiful, enchanting stories that would keep the memories of goblins and fairies and dragons alive in the minds of the children for centuries to come.

Sarah Williams had always been both a blessing and a curse.

Her babe, they hoped, would be just a blessing. They had enough curses of their own to deal with, thank you very much.

And when the Goblin king returned from solving one problem or another in their beloved Labyrinth, they hoped he thought this little gift was a blessing too. Hoped he wouldn't be angry or spiteful. They didn't know if he'd resent the babe, the son of another man, the child of the girl who defeated him…

His eyes betrayed nothing.

Well…_almost_ nothing…

Jareth moved with the ease of a man only with his knowledge and power could. Jareth was never startled, rarely angry and seldom depressed—so far as they could see. He had all the time in the world to build a brilliant façade and he'd seen all the wonders in the universe, something which left little room for surprises.

That's why they almost jumped for joy when he reached down to take the babe into his arms. They could see the flicker of recognition in his eyes—a spark that was both mischievous and pleasant. Slowly, the corner of his lip curled up into a look that was a cross between a smirk and something genuinely happy. And then they knew…

The baby was smaller than the last one—obviously much younger than Toby. It was curiously at ease in the Goblin king's arms and they wonder if it was due to Jareth's own magic or some unseen grace bestowed upon the babe by its mother. Sarah Williams had always been a little different than regular human beings.

The throne room erupted into the sound of shouting and yelling and laughing and singing—it was a myriad of noises that didn't seem to bother either Jareth or the babe. They almost missed the faint words that passed his lips…

"You remind me of the babe…"

-A/N:-

I apologize if it sounds little choppy. If something seems off, just poke me and I'll fix it.

One a side note, I've changed the tense of the story from present to past—I've also been re-editing the chapters in my spare time.

[Prompt list for this chapter: Character development (complete opposite of Sarah?), rats, oubliette, husband, Cheshire cat, at least 5,000 words, Thanksgiving, clinging chill, _"You remind me of the babe..."_]


	2. The stone that could talk

A/N: I noticed that someone else had a fic in which Toby's _daughter_ is named 'Kimmy'. I think I subconsciously called his niece 'Kimberly' because of this—I apologize to said author of the fic in question. I will change her name upon your request.

Now, as for the story…

Title: The Unexpected (Chapter Two)

Fandom: Labyrinth

Spoilers: The movie

Rating: Pg-13

Prompts/Challenges: (the list is written at the bottom of the page)

Disclaimer: I don't the Labyrinth or anything related to it.

Chapter Length: 5690 words

Timeline: Takes place approximately _**twenty-two**__ years_ after the movie

Summary: _Toby's always lived his life by the natural laws—laws of science and reason.__The sudden disappearance of his newborn nephew, however, brings to light a whole new meaning of reality…_

It took a moment for the severity of the situation to sink in, but, after his eyes adjusted to the blinding light and his ribs didn't hurt as badly as before, he finally accepted the fact that he didn't knock himself unconscious when he dove under Sarah's bed. The pain was too real for this to be just some concussion-induced hallucination.

He took a deep breath, sore ribs protesting against the action, before he climbed out of the light and sat down near the wall of the oubliette. Resting his back against the cold jagged stone, he waited until his eyes have a chance to adjust to the dark before he addressed the weird little creature crouched only a few feet away from him in the corner. It was short, a little stout, and it had a maw like a rat. Beady little eyes glowed at him from under the hood of an oddly shaped helmet, two crooked horns protruding from either side of its head just behind its ears. It sat upright from where it was huddled, showing off the small armor-like disc covering it's round little belly and chest, and nervously shifted its stick-spear back and forth between its tiny clawed paws.

The rodent _thing_ scratched impatiently at the floor with one foot, fidgeting uneasily beneath Toby's stare. It was all of three feet tall, but it still managed to creep him out…

"…You said you'd take me to my nephew," Toby said quietly. The awkward silence had prevailed for long enough. "Actually, you _swore_ you'd take me to him. Make with the magic already."

"Um…uh…oh no…" it mumbled to itself, "…This won't be easy. I told you already—I'm not too good at traveling on my own."

"What do you mean?" Toby didn't have time or patience for games. He didn't want to think about what this thing's companions might have done to the baby.

"I tried to take us to the castle before, but…well…here we are…" It paused to point at the ceiling with the tip of its spear, "…in an oubliette. The place is riddled with them, so…uh…I need someone else to help me with 'the magic'."

"If you're _'not too good' _at it, how do you know your friends were able to take him to this supposed castle?"

"Because there're several of _them_ and only one of _me_. The king's the only one that can jump about the place all silly nilly whenever he wants!"

"I don't _care_ about your king!" Toby snapped, sitting up a bit so he could crouch closer to the little monster, menacing in his anger. "How do I get out of here?!"

The creature tilted the tip of its crude spear at the trapdoor and chuckled weakly, "Well…that way leads to your house. There's a spare door in the corner over there, but I don't know where that goes."

"But this is an oubliette…The _definition_ of an oubliette is a room with only means of entrance—a trapdoor."

"Oh, no worries. Hoggle used to leave his stuff lying around the Labyrinth all the time, you know, just in case he ever got lost. I think that's his door…"

Toby turned his head and squinted across the room. He expected to find a door _against_ the wall, but instead he spots a slab of wood lying on the floor. "…I don't think that's going to work."

"Leave it to me!" the thing chimed delightfully. "I can get us out of here!"

"And _who_ exactly are you?"

It blinked…then looked down at the floor a little nervously. "…Smorf."

"Smurf?"

"_No_! _Smorf_!"

"My apologies…" Toby turned his back to 'Smorf' and lifted himself to his feet. He paused to stretch his legs before walking across the room to kneel beside the 'door' "…Alright, Smorf, how do I work this thing?"

"You…you believe me?"

"Why not?" he sighed, "I just fell into an oubliette that was curiously situated beneath my sister's bed. A magic door doesn't sound odd in comparison to that."

He glanced back at Smorf and watched as he (—at least, he _thinks_ it's a 'he'—) slowly nodded his head in acceptance of Toby's logic. "…M'kay. Step aside, mortal. I'll show you how it's done!"

Toby rubbed his hands together to dust off the dirt as Smorf half-ran, half-wobbled across the oubliette with surprising speed. He couldn't help but wonder if the weird little thing could move faster on all four paws…

Smorf dropped his spear momentarily to grab one end of the wood. He dragged it quickly to the wall and, with a hard shove, pushed it up against the stone. It nearly toppled back over him a second after it connected with the stone, but by that point Toby was already up on his feet and he was able to push the 'pseudo-door' away from Smorf's head.

In the dark, it almost seemed to lock in place…

"I don't have the knob…" Smorf said a little uneasily, "so I don't know where we're headed. There _could_ be something horrible on the other side, like an ogre…"

Toby was nervous, but he couldn't stop thinking about Jonathon. His disappearance, after all, was entirely Toby's fault. "…It could also be my nephew."

"…Fair enough."

Smorf wobbled back to collect his spear before returning to the door. Toby began to wonder how his new companion planned to open it when suddenly the small knight-like creature gave it a solid kick. Smorf howled in pain and the door swung outward…

It was dark.

Very dark.

"…I hope this ain't a closet," Smorf muttered as he took a step back, hopping oddly to ease the weight off his sore foot. "You first, mortal!"

"Quit calling me that."

"Than what _would_ you have me call you?"

"T—" Toby stopped himself short, worried that something might happen if he gave out his real name. He was a terrible liar (everyone who knew him seemed to think so) and he wouldn't be necessarily 'lying' if he gave Smorf his nickname instead. "…Tommy."

"Tommy?" Smorf sounded unconvinced. His beady little eyes studied Toby before… "…M'kay. Well, Tommy—mortal's first!"

Toby shook his head, "You're too kind…"

It was dark and he didn't want to meet an ogre (he doubted it would be as conversional as Smorf), but brave old Sarah wasn't there to help him and Toby had a job to do. He could barely remember how _'The Labyrinth'_ went, but he didn't want to find out what goblins did to babies once they kidnapped them. They didn't…they didn't _eat_ them, did they…?

"Here goes nothing," he muttered as he bowed his head and stepped into the dark. It was deep and cold…nothing like a closet. He could feel a whisper of a breeze against his face—which meant the way out of this place was close by—but he couldn't tell whether or not some terrible monster was lying in wait for them.

"…Well?"

"Come on, Smorf. I'm still alive, aren't I?"

Smorf grunted behind him before following him into the dark. He left the door open and the light in the other room faintly illuminated the passage before them. Reaching out to either side of him, Toby realized how narrow the path really was.

"How big are ogres, Smorf?"

"_Big_…'bout as big as my house."

Well then, Toby didn't expect to meet one in here.

He kept his left hand pressed up against one wall as he made his way slowly forward through the tunnel. Smorf journeyed on behind him, armor clanking slightly as he wobbled down the passageway. Toby didn't know how long they go on like that, walking and wobbling, feeling about blindly in the dark, but soon he spied a pale blue glow up ahead and another faint blast of air brushed against his face. It _could've_ been an exit.

But it wasn't.

It was a well…full of glowing, swirling, misty blue water.

Toby stopped short at the mouth of the small stone room. It was void of windows and doors, and all he could see was an old well standing dead-center in the middle of that blasted old cave…

"I don't believe this…"

"Ooh! A well!"

Toby was somewhat surprised by Smorf's excitement, but he chose not to say anything as his companion pushed past him into the room. Smorf was only tall enough to put his nose over the edge of the well.

"_Not just **any** well--I'm a **Wishing** well!"_

Oh great…even _wells_ could talk…

"Really?" Smorf wondered aloud. "Can you grant any wish?"

"…_Not quite. I'm not a full-fledged Wishing Well just yet—but I will be by the end of this century! I can only grant small wishes…"_

Awesome. It appeared as though it even had a ranking order too…

"_Come on—try me! You can have as many wishes as…as…well, as many as you think is reasonable."_

"I wish I knew where my nephew was."

"_At the castle, of course. Next!"_

"Where is that?"

"_At the center of the Labyrinth. Next!"_

"Hey!" Smorf shouted indignantly. "It's my turn!"

"_Ask away, my small goblin friend."_

"Can I have something to eat?"

"_Done!"_

Toby was startled when an apple was tossed up through the water and over the ledge. Smorf caught it expectantly and took a bite immediately.

"…Is that apple _real_?" he murmured, wondering how something like that could be produced in an old well.

"_Yes…and no. I wouldn't eat that if I were you, mortal…"_

"Then why did you give it to Smorf?"

Smorf didn't say anything—just kept munching away at the apple.

"_He's a goblin. He can eat just about anything."_

Toby paled. "…Anything?...What about babies?"

The well—it seemed—could also laugh. _"Babies?! Who would want to eat a defenseless little babe? Besides, the king likes children…I expect someone would be punished if they tried to eat one."_

"Why's that?"

"_Don't know, but he has one at his castle this very moment—you said he was your nephew, right?"_

"Yes." Toby's hopes began to rise. "Can you take me there?"

"_I'm afraid that's beyond my powers, young man, but I can give you a bit of advice. I have infinite knowledge of this kingdom"_

He sighed, glancing over at Smorf as the 'goblin' began gnawing away at the apple core. "…I don't know what good it'll do me…but I'll take it anyway."

"_You'll meet some nasty characters in this place, my boy, but not all of us are bad. If you ever need help, be clear with your questions and **always** remember to ask for **directions** rather than **advice**. Those with good intentions will—quite naturally—try to lead you away from the castle. Like the worms…they're nice folk, actually…"_

"Why?"

"_Why? Because this Labyrinth only gets worse the farther you get in. Which reminds me…"_ The well's water glowed a little brighter before it tossed out another apple. Smorf, Toby realized, was about to wish for another one. _"…**Never**, under any circumstances, eat any of the fruit you find here, whether you pluck it off the branch of a tree or if someone offers it to you from their basket. You'll find berries and apples and peaches—and all sorts of wonderful things in this place, but these things weren't grown for human beings."_

"I see…may I ask another question?"

"_Most certainly. I rarely have any visitors, if you can imagine that…"_

"I remember…" He licked his lips nervously. "…I remember there being a story about the Labyrinth. I don't recall a whole lot, but I think it said that the babe would turn into a goblin if it wasn't saved in time. Is that true…?"

He certainly hoped not.

"_My boy, if you moved from one country to another and got your citizenship there, would your nose fall off?"_

"Um, no…"

"_Exactly. The Labyrinth was created by the king, and King Jareth is a master of time and space. The time in this world has been severed from that of your world and none of the Labyrinth's inhabitants can age without his majesty's explicit permission—in the same sense, none can leave or enter this place unless he bestows that power upon them."_

Toby glanced down at Smorf. The goblin was half way through his second apple, but he was eating slower now, listening to the conversation…

"_If a babe becomes a 'goblin', it is merely tied to the laws and rules of the Labyrinth, slowly infused with the powers of this world, and becomes bound to the king's will. Even now, my young friend, you remain untouched by time. It will, undoubtedly, seem to pass no slower than usual, but give it a few days and you'll see what I mean."_

"But I don't have a few days! I only have an hour before my sister returns!"

"_Time, I said, is **severed** between our worlds. A day in this place could be fifteen minutes in yours."_

"But I'm not bound to the king yet, am I, or to the rules of the Labyrinth?"

" '**_Yet_**_' is the key word here. If you turn back now, you can still leave this place. I believe our goblin friend here has enough power to push your over the border."_

"I can't leave. I have to find my nephew."

"_I thought so…You're going to have a bit of trouble with that, you know."_

"I do know."

"_Not quite, you don't. The Labyrinth just doesn't let anyone through to the castle. It's a fickle thing, really…you have to be challenged to find the babe in order for it to let you through. We just can't let anyone wander about."_

"Who has to challenge me?"

"_Well…it's always been the king, but you're **here** and he's **there**, so…"_

"Can't I challenge myself?" he sighed.

"…_I don't see why not. After all, it is **your** nephew that was taken and, quite frankly, I think the Labyrinth owes it to you to let you have a shot at finding him."_

"…Wonderful." Toby rubbed his right temple idly, feeling the first ache of an oncoming migraine. He still felt a bit ill from earlier.

"_Cheer up, my boy. Is there anything else you want?"_

Toby laughed weakly. "Yes, actually. I want to scream."

And so he did.

"…_I'm guessing no one ever told him to be careful what he wished for?"_

Smorf shook his head and tossed the last bit of the second apple core into his mouth. He took a moment to stare down the newly made hole in the floor where Toby once stood, his shout echoing faintly in the distance, before turning back to the well. "Where's he going?"

"_I can't remember. You might want to follow him, though. I think there might be a dragon down there…or an ogre…I could be mistaken…"_

"I don't want to fight an ogre!"

"_I'm not sure. The last time I checked was fifty years ago."_

"I thought you said you had infinite knowledge."

"_Actually…the rocks know more than I do. I only know what they tell me."_

Smorf grumbled under his breath, but he knew he had to follow the young man. Jareth would kill him if anything happened to 'Toby Williams', the babe that was stolen back from him twenty-some human years ago.

"…Fine. But I need you to do something for me first."

"_Anything, as long as it's within my power…"_

-1-Jareth the Goblin King-1-

There were very few people in the universe that could convince Jareth to change time and space to suit their own personal needs. Sarah Williams, the girl that captivated him since the time she first read _The Labyrinth_, had been one of them. He moved the stars for no one…

…or so he thought.

Glancing down at the innocent babe, he thought back to day she challenged his Labyrinth. Both her determination and courage guided her through the many twists and turns of his living breathing maze, and her natural knack for making companions aided her on her journey to take back her half brother. He could've kept her there…he could've denied her the chance to brave the Labyrinth, but that wouldn't have been _'fair'_.

Love, as it has been told, made a person do many remarkable (—and stupid—) things.

The usual pandemonium of his throne room did nothing to disturb the child in his arms. The boy was calm, relieved by Jareth's foreign powers, and watched the king with the same curiosity of any child his tender age. Cradled in one of his arms, the babe squeezed the finger of Jareth's other hand as he offered it to the babe's attention. Leaning back in his throne, he has all the time in the world to allow himself to be mesmerized by this little creature—a child of Sarah's making. Surely _she_ wasn't the one that wished the child here? She wouldn't have been that reckless…

"—for you!"

Jareth only caught the tail end of that sentence and barely noticed the small goblin jumping up and down by his foot.

"He has a message for you!" the thing exclaimed again, somewhat aware that Jareth had been ignoring it.

"Who?"

"Smorf."

Jareth sighed, eyes falling back on the babe as he gradually lost interest in the goblin's message. "Yes, and what does Smurf want?"

"Smorf," it corrected, then paused as it realized it shouldn't have done that, "I-I mean—he says he found the mortal!"

_That_, most certainly, caught his attention.

"They were in a oubliette, but then they found a wishing well and—"

"Is it a woman?" he interrupted, wondering, curiously, if it really _was_ Sarah that wished the baby here.

"No. He says it was a young man."

A man? The child's father?

"_What_ man?" Jareth snapped, beginning to lose his patience.

"I don't know," it replied meekly, "Smorf said the man challenged himself to face the Labyrinth. He wants his nephew back."

Sarah's half-brother.

Toby…

_Toby_ _Williams_ was in his Labyrinth?

"Ironic…" he wondered aloud, sparing a glance at the child in his arms before looking down at the goblin. Many of its brethren had fallen silent at the news, "…is it not? That the babe should return for the babe? …That Sarah Williams is the one who loses in the end?"

The goblins murmured quietly amongst themselves, not quite certain whether or not someone was supposed to answer his rhetorical question.

Should he have meet the young man? No…Jareth didn't need to challenge the long lost boy—Toby Williams had challenged _himself_, and, as such, had sealed his fate in the Labyrinth. It wasn't a wise decision on the boy's behalf. Someone should've warned him…

Jareth smiled slightly. He'd won the game even before it had a chance to begin—there was no need to confront the young man this very moment. Sooner or later, he would make his way to the castle.

"Send out a message to the sentries," Jareth demanded, still cradling the babe in one arm as he rose to his feet. With the flick of his wrist, a crystal rolled up into his free hand, an upside-down and warped image of the Labyrinth stretched out across its delicate surface. "I want them to find Toby Williams and bring him to me as soon as the right time presents itself. No goblin is to be spared for any other purpose."

"And when, exactly, will the time be _right_, your majesty…?"

Jareth held the crystal out for his minions to see, the image of the Labyrinth shifting from its usual warm Tuscan shades to black. He can only assume that the boy was somewhere in the dark…

"That is for him to decide," Jareth explained at last, "and he _will_ decide soon. The Labyrinth isn't nearly as patient as I am…"

The baby made a small cooing noise, a plea to see the crystal as it reached out to touch it with its tiny little hands. Jareth brought it closer for the child to see, but not nearly enough for it to touch.

"He's here for you, and you're here because of him…" Jareth murmured quietly beneath his breath, somewhat amused by the irony. "The Williams are infamous for losing track of their children…I don't suppose you'll make the same mistake in the future, my fine little friend?"

The baby laughed.

That's all he needed to hear.

-2-Toby-2-

The fall was longer than he expected. Toby was afraid of heights—always had been—and the plunge he'd taken into darkness did absolutely nothing to remedy that fear. In his mind, the drop seemed to last forever, ­but, remarkably, he didn't receive any injuries. He was winded for the second time that night but he supposes that the Wishing Well did its best to do him no harm.

From that moment on, Toby promised to be careful what he wished for. If he wasn't careful, this whole wishing business was going to be the death of him. Literally.

He waited on the floor, lying awkwardly amongst a pile of rocks, before pushing himself up onto his hip. Then he heard it.

"_Eff off uf meh!"_

Worried that he landed on Smorf or some other inhabitant of the Labyrinth, Toby shifted his weight immediately until he was kneeling beside the pile. Taking one of the larger rocks in hand, he tossed it aside. "Hold on," he replied, picking up another stone to chuck. "I'll have you out in a sec."

"_No, I—ahhhhhhh!"_

Toby froze…he was almost certain that it was a rock he'd thrown.

Said 'rock' connected with the wall, an ominous crack resounding in the small space accompanied by a loud _'oomph!'_. Toby cringed and decided against picking up another stone.

"_I think…I think you chipped me…"_ He heard the sound of tumbling rocks, almost as though one was being rolled across the floor toward him. _"How could you?! Even after I broke your fall—"_

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, feeling nervous. "I…I didn't mean…"

"_Well…it was an old piece, anyway. I was going to chip it off myself sooner or later."_

Toby swallowed and didn't move. He was half afraid he'd sit on something else that talked and had feelings.

"_Speak up, boy. What's your name?"_

"Tommy."

"_Tommy…"_ it said, almost as though it was tasting the word. _"Well, Tom, my name's Elliott. It's a pleasure to meet you."_

"Even after I landed on you?"

"…_It was an honest mistake. I've been stepped on and thrown about many times before, you know. It's all a part of being a rock."_

Toby nearly laughed. "You mean to say, you really are a talking rock?"

"_Indeed I am."_

"Then why aren't the others talking?" Toby reached out toward the pile of rocks and brushed his hand over them gently. They don't make a sound…so far as he can hear. None of the stones in the oubliette spoke to him either...

Elliott appeared to be quite animated in comparison to his brethren.

"_They **can** talk, they just don't see a reason why they should. We rocks can last for ages, you know, but not if were talkative and adventurous. It's easier to get chipped that way…"_

"Then why do you talk?"

"_Because I'm not afraid of turning into dust! I'll have you know, my great uncle rolled into the goblin city at his dear friend's request to battle the goblin army and—"_

"You know where the goblin city is?" Toby didn't mean to interrupt the rock, but he needed to get to the castle as soon as possible. He wasn't sure how much time he had to accomplish that feat.

The rock made a faint humming noise and rolled closer to Toby in the dark. He felt it bump into his right knee before it stopped to answer, _"I do."_

Toby felt somewhat hopeful now. "Can you take me there?"

"_That depends…How much time do you have to reach the castle?"_

"I don't know."

"_Have you been challenged to solve the Labyrinth yet?"_

"Yes."

"_Who challenged you?"_

"I did."

"_What's your lucky number?"_

Toby paused, "Uh…four, I think…"

"_Then you have until the sun sets on the fourth day to make it to the goblin city and leave this place, otherwise your will shall be forever bound to the Goblin Kingdom and its king."_

That…sucked.

"How can you tell?"

"_How can I tell? It's **your** lucky number. I don't make the rules around here."_

This little adventure was beginning to aggravate him. Toby knew that time in this place ran faster than the time back in his world, but four days here was cutting it pretty close to an hour back there.

He needed Sarah.

When he first landed in the oubliette, he was only concerned with finding out what had happened to his nephew and where the baby had been taken. But if this world was made up by Sarah, then she of all people would know how to defeat the Labyrinth. She's read the book—she probably had it memorized…

But Sarah wouldn't be home for another hour or so and Toby had only himself to blame for the disappearance of the babe. It was his job to get Johnny back, and since he'd already accepted the challenge…

"I guess it's only fair…four days sounds a lot longer than a couple of hours."

The girl in the story only had twelve hours, right? Or was it thirteen…?

"_Wonderful! Now that **that's** decided, shall we make our way to the city at the center of the Labyrinth?"_

Toby nodded. "How do we get out of this place?"

"_Watch, my friend, and be amazed…"_

He waited in the darkness, tense, and listened to the soft muffled noise of something rumbling in the distance. Off to his left, the sound rose in volume until a part of the wall cracked and a sliver of light penetrated the darkness. Toby squinted and shields his eyes with one hand as pieces of the wall fell apart, revealing a small slanted tunnel that was only a few feet wide and about ten feet long. It would appear that the rocks had a different way of talking amongst themselves…

"_Pick me up!"_ Elliott pleaded before Toby could climb into the hole. He did, tucking the rock under one arm as he began climbing toward the light, cutting his free hand and his knees through his jeans as he scrambled to find purchase on the loose stones. Eventually, however, his head popped out of the mouth of the hole and he was hit in the face with a cool burst of air.

He maneuvered his arm to push Elliott out of the hole first before planting both his hands on either side, lifting himself up with a good shove. After his hips were level with the ground, he shifted his weight and sat down beside his newest guide.

Elliott was approximately nine inches long and six inches wide, shaped more like a football than a sphere, and he was a bit jagged around the edges. Toby can hardly believe the fact that he was talking to a _rock_ but he was prepared to take whatever help he could find. After all, he'd trust a rock over a goblin any day, no matter how friendly Smorf seemed to be…

"Don't forget me!"

Toby jumped, startled, and stared down the tunnel toward his other companion. Legs still resting inside the hole, he watched Smorf scramble up towards the light at an alarming speed, spear forgotten as he used all four paws to climb.

When he was close enough, Toby reached down his hands to grab Smorf and lift him up onto the ground beside him. The little goblin looked quite a bit dirty from his short excursion in the underground, but Toby can hardly complain. Looking down at his green turtle-neck, he spotted a few cuts here and there on the sleeves and a couple near the hem. He was dusty from falling several times…

Looking up, Toby took a moment to survey his surroundings. Upon closer inspection, Toby realized that he was sitting inside one of the Labyrinth's corridors—to the right the path led straight to an intersection, and to the left it made a sharp turn toward the sun. The walls surrounding him were several feet tall, too tall to climb, and Toby decided _against_ trying to scale any of them. He's had his fill of heights for one day…

"What time is it?" he asked before pushing himself up onto his feet.

"_Um…a little after dawn, I think."_

Smorf paused…then poked curiously at Elliott with one claw. Quietly, Elliott rolled away until he was settled by Toby's feet.

"_Give me a toss and I'll see where we are. Just don't forget to catch me."_

Toby leaned down to grab the rock—then chucked it high into the air above his head. Elliott made a faint laughing noise as he slowed at the peak of the throw before descending back toward the earth. Toby caught him, hands stinging slightly from impact.

"_We have quite a few twists and turns ahead of us, but the castle is to the north,"_ Elliott explained. _"Go right and then take another right. I'll keep track of where we are."_

"It talks!" Smorf exclaimed suddenly, as though he just realized the incorporeal voice had been coming from Elliott. "I knew rocks could _roll_ but I didn't think they could talk…"

"_Oh my…"_ Elliott muttered in mock surprise, _"…it's a goblin. Tom, my good fellow, would you be so kind as to drop me on its head?"_

"Smorf promised he would lead me to my nephew."

"_Your nephew?"_

"The goblin king has him."

"_Now I see…and you're here to rescue him?"_

"Exactly."

Elliott snortr in disbelief. _"Then I wouldn't trust a **goblin**. It's his job to keep you away from the castle until your time is up—and then he's supposed to deliver you to the king. Am I right, Smorf?"_

Smorf barer his little rat-like teeth, eyes shining dangerously from beneath his helmet. "I said I'd take him to his nephew and that's _exactly_ what I plan on doing!"

"_Yes, but you never specified **when**. Take my advice, Tom—don't trust the goblins!"_

Toby roll4r his eyes, keeping Elliott tucked securely beneath his arm to prevent the rock from attacking. "The Wishing Well told me not to take advice from anyone—just directions. Now the way I see it, I have two guides, both of which want me to get to the castle sooner or later. If we come to a point where neither of you can agree on a way, I'll make that decision for myself. Fair enough?"

Smorf nodded timidly and Elliott made a humming noise of concurrence.

"Now let's go—you said to the right, Elliott?"

"_Yes, two rights…"_ the rock muttered. It remained quiet until Toby took the first turn, Smorf trudging along close behind him. _"Can I say something else, Tom?"_

"So long as it doesn't aggravate Smorf."

"…_It's about the king."_

Toby glanced over his shoulder at Smorf. The little goblin didn't make any sign of protest so Toby nodded.

"_He can see you, you know. Even now."_

Toby's pace began to slow. "…What do you mean?"

"_He **made** the Labyrinth, Tom. When you challenge it, it gives you permission to pass through—but only to contest against the king. The Labyrinth has natural dangers of its own, but Jareth can see you no matter where you are—he's the real danger here."_

"What can he do to me?"

"_Well, he has agents he can send to stop you, but Jareth's a talented sorcerer. He'll trap you with illusions and spells. If he's tricky enough, he can even make you forget why you came here…"_

Toby's blood ran cold at the idea. He could imagine poor Sarah, weeping, dying, wondering who could've taken her precious little baby…

Toby couldn't afford to lose.

"Has anyone ever defeated him before?"

"_My great uncle once told me that a girl challenged him many human years ago…and won. She was a hell of a lot feistier than you, but I think she won because Jareth loved her. Subconsciously or not, I think he went easy on her…"_

"Is that why she completed the Labyrinth in a day?"

"_Maybe—but it could've been because the Labyrinth liked her. I don't know…much has changed around here. I think you're going to need every last bit of those four days to get to the castle. We don't have a minute to spare."_

Without actually realizing it, Toby's pace quickened.

"We'll make it," Smorf assured them with a hint of pride in his voice, "Just don't eat any of the fruit."

"_Easier said than done…"_ Elliott muttered, but any further complaints die suddenly when Toby almost 'accidentally' dropped him.

Smorf, for the most part, chose that silence was the best course of action for the remainder of their journey.

Toby was relieved by the bit of peace and quiet.

-3-Jareth the Goblin King-3-

His eyes focused coolly on the image in his crystal. Holding his swagger staff up so that a large, troll-like beast could see the three companions traveling within the sphere, he smiled slightly.

"Destroy the rock—" he ordered, making sure the dumb beast could understand him. Around him, goblins were scrambling to deliver Jareth's instructions to the other loyal inhabitants of the Labyrinth, "—not the man or the goblin."

"Rock," it grumbled in reply. "Dust."

Jareth was pleased with the connection.


	3. Three riddles

A/N: Yay! Another chapter!

Title: The Unexpected (Chapter Three)

Fandom: Labyrinth

Spoilers: The movie

Rating: Pg-13

Prompts/Challenges: (the list will be written at the bottom of the page)

Disclaimer: I don't own it…though it would be totally cool if I did.

Chapter Length: words

Timeline: Takes place approximately _**twenty-two**__ years _after the movie

Summary: _Toby's always lived his life by the natural laws—laws of science and reason. The sudden disappearance of his newborn nephew, however, brings to light a whole new meaning of reality…_

"_A hunting we will go, a hunting we will go—hi ho the merrio! A hunting we will go…"_

For a rock, Elliott had a fairly nice singing voice.

Despite the insane adventure he stumbled upon, Toby felt somewhat relieved to have Smorf and Elliott along for the ride. Smorf was surprisingly quiet for a goblin and Elliott had more enthusiasm than half the people Toby knew. They made…for a very interesting team.

They journeyed onward, listening to Elliott's sporadic bursts of song as Toby tossed him up every couple of turns to check their position. The Labyrinth, Elliott explained, changed periodically on its own, but with a bird's eye view of the surrounding corridors Elliott was able to shift them closer to the second level without much trouble. They hit a dead end only twice on their little expedition but remained unhindered for the most part of the day.

In a few hours, a little while after the sun reached its zenith and the intense heat of noon passed them by, Toby leaned against one of the cool stone walls and slid down to sit in the shade. There were branches lying on the ground, leafless skeletons of ivy weaving up and through the cracks in the walls, and there were strange patches of…_things_…things with eyes that sat in small bundles with the ivy. They watched Toby and his company wander through the Labyrinth intently…He didn't know what they are, but neither Smorf nor Elliott mention them…He supposed they must be harmless.

_"Tired?"_

"You're heavy for a rock," Toby chuckled as he set his guide down beside his knees. Elliott rolled away from him for a moment before wandering back to rest by his feet. Smorf, in the meantime, squatted down on his other side, trying to adjust his helmet as it slipped forward over his eyes.

"The Wishing Well told me I couldn't eat any fruit," Toby said. "Do you know where I could find anything edible?"

_"One of the inhabitants might have some food—especially the worms. They love their tea…"_ Elliott rolled further down the corridor in the direction they were heading. The fork in the road quivered, almost in response, before one of the turns closed off. _"Drats! I wanted to go that way…"_

"Come here," Toby sighed, offering a hand to collect the rock as it tumbled quickly toward him. His knees ached, but with a good shove off the wall he managed to make it back onto his feet without toppling over.

His arms were sore from carrying Elliott.

"Damn, you're heavy."

_"Shut up and toss me already. You'd be lost if not for me…"_

…It was true, so Toby erred on the side of caution and kept his lips sealed as he heaved the football-shaped rock up into the air. Elliott made an odd whistling noise as he reached the peak of his flight before sailing back down to Toby.

_"The straight path doesn't look too good. Give me another toss so I can see if we can go back."_

Toby sighed before throwing the rock again. This time, however, Elliott didn't make it all the way up. Just as he reached above the height of labyrinth walls, another rock came soaring out from Toby's left field of vision and collided with his animated companion. Both Toby and Smorf cringed at the loud _'crack'_ that sounded from above as Elliott crashed into one of the walls before plummeting to the ground beside their feet.

_"Man down! Man down! I've been hit! I repeat—I've been hit!"_

"No kidding," Smorf muttered, "What hit you?"

_"He said it was a troll."_

"Who?"

_"**He** did!"_ Elliott shouted as he rolled over to the small stone that collided with him. A tiny piece of Elliott had been chipped away upon impact. _"He says a troll just picked him up and took aim at me from a few passageways over. That **thing** is looking for us."_

"Sounds like Jareth's keen on ending this."

Toby shook his head, stepping over to his fallen companion to pick up his broken piece. It didn't look like a lot of damage was dealt to Elliott…but that first attack could've been a warning shot.

"I say we surrender," Smorf reasoned as he reached under his helmet to scratch his head. "I _hate_ trolls."

"How bad are they?"

"Ogres are big and frightening—trolls tend to be big, frightening and _weird_. They like to make riddles…and they like to eat anything that talks."

_"Namely us."_

Toby shook his head again, anxious about facing a troll but bound by guilt and duty to complete his 'mission'. "I'm here to retrieve my nephew—not write an encyclopedia about monsters. Is there any way we can outrun a troll?"

…

When neither of his companions supplied him with an answer, Toby realized he didn't have much of a chance.

In the distance they could hear a loud rumbling noise (something akin to a roar) before the sound of thunderous footsteps began pounding in their direction, slowly…like a death march…

Toby wondered if trolls could walk through walls.

He really didn't want to find out.

-1-Jareth the Goblin King-1-

In the past, he'd been a bit more lenient when it came to letting his minions trap the unfortunate challengers of his Labyrinth, but ever since Sarah bested him he decided to keep a closer eye on the competition. The troll (as he ordered) took its first chance at eliminating the talking stone, but this 'Elliott' wasn't down for the count just yet.

Jareth couldn't help but wonder if the troll's aim was a bit off.

Or maybe it was a warning shot.

Jareth didn't want anyone to make any mistakes, but he wasn't quite convinced that he should make an appearance _just_ yet. He was curious as to what Toby's method would be to outwit the troll (not that trolls were very smart...), and maybe…just maybe…

He tilted his swagger staff ever so slightly to the left, crystal catching the light at a different angle, and narrowed his eyes at the image before it. In a similar situation, Sarah would've faced this problem head-on. She had Ludo who could summon rocks and Sir Diddymus who didn't have the heart to turn down a good battle—Toby, however, had a singing rock and a small goblin (whose loyalties were quite questionable…). If he was as fierce as his sister he'd try to take a direct approach in defeating the troll, but…he wasn't. Toby was quieter than Sarah. He asked several questions, erred on the side of caution…

_"—is there any way we can outrun a troll?"_

Jareth smiled.

Not likely.

-2-Toby Williams-2-

_"Hell no,"_ Elliott snorted, _"Outrun a troll? They're fast little buggers…"_

Toby's shoulders sagged. "Then I'm guessing—"

He didn't have much time to complete that statement. One moment he was standing with his two companions—the next he found himself lying flat on the ground, left ear ringing as debris rained down upon him. Unexpectedly, the troll decided to take the direct route toward them.

Through the wall.

Heart pounding in his chest, he watched as one of the rocks tried to roll away. A large, meaty hand reached out beside him in a vain attempt to catch said rock (which he assumed was Elliott), but his talking companion was quick to roll under a pile of much larger stones.

Lying on his side, he tried to prop himself up on his right elbow. His left knee smarted where part of the wall hit him, but the throbbing pain was somewhat numbed by the rush of adrenaline in his veins. As he raised his head to look at the towering figure beside him, he was horrified to find a tall, hairy looking thing that smelled of stale water, hunched forward as though it were crippled. Its hair was damp and its eyes, which were beady and black, were fixed on him.

But it ignored him.

Turning its massive head to stare at the pile of rubble, it paid little attention to Smorf as the small goblin scrambled out of the way, lifting one of its giant hands to beat down on the stones. It was hell bent on destroying Elliott.

"Wait!" Toby exclaimed, pushing himself up onto his feet as quickly as he could without falling over. He was terrified of the beast but it didn't seem too concerned with him.

It blinked, hand frozen high above its head.

"Do you…like…riddles?" Toby's voice sounded weak, but the troll nodded, lowering its arm slowly. "Then why don't we play a game?"

_"What game?"_ It asked in a low booming voice. Toby felt his heart begin to race again; he was willing to take his chances.

"Ask me a few riddles. If I get them right, you'll let me and my companions go."

_"Three?"_

"What?"

_"Three riddles,"_ it clarified, and then, as though reciting an old code, went on to ask: _"There are two trees planted in front of two other trees. There are two tree planted behind two other trees. There are two trees planted beside two other trees. How many trees are there?" _**(1)**

He envisioned two trees in a forest and another two which were planted directly behind them. In that situation, two were in front, two were behind and two were standing side-by-side no matter what direction he looked at them.

"Four," he replied, much sooner than he meant to. What if he was wrong?

The troll paused…then nodded. _"In a large room with no windows, a man was found hanging from the ceiling. There are no chairs or other furniture which the man could have used to jump from, but there is a pool of water on the floor. How did he manage to hang himself?"_

Toby felt somewhat guilty—he remembered this one from a book. "He stood on a block of ice. It melted."

The troll's eyes narrowed suspiciously, sizing him up, but it nodded anyway. This time, it took longer to think of a question. "…_You've been placed in a long room that has only one exit: a small door that is ten feet away from where you stand. Working under the influence of a curse, every step you take will only move you half the distance between yourself and the door. How many steps will it take you to reach the door?"_

On impulse, Toby began dividing the distances in his head: 10—5—2.5—1.25—0.625…

…Sarah once asked him if he thought he was really going anywhere in life…or if he was just walking around in circles on an eternal journey to nowhere…

Toby blinked, the wicked pace of his heart gradually slowing as a warm, oppressive feeling spread across his chest. "It doesn't matter…" he said quietly, realizing that every step he took would only ever move him half the distance he needed to go. "I'll never reach it…"

The troll was quiet. Toby wasn't worried that he was wrong—he _knew_ he was right.

With a final nod, the troll turned around and marched slowly through the newly made hole the wall. Toby stood there silently, listening to the thundering footsteps as they faded into the distance, wondering if there was a specific reason why the troll asked that particular question...

When Sarah told him the story of the Labyrinth, she said that the girl who went to save the babe was fairly stupid in the beginning…but that running through the Labyrinth somehow made her smarter, wiser. Like a remedy.

Toby wondered what this Labyrinth would do to him.

"That was quick," Smorf murmured from where he was hunched down in the shade. "You're a smart one, Thomas."

Toby sighed. "Many people are smart."

That's why he went into Immunology.

That's why he gave up the piano.

He used to enjoy playing music as a child. When his mother first signed him up to learn the piano, he was actually _excited_. It wasn't until she turned his hobby into a _duty_ that he began giving up on it—she preferred classical music. He liked jazz. He just wanted to hammer out any old tune that had a beat and a purpose, something that wasn't just _elegant_ or _refined_. He wanted to play something that moved him—something that forced a reaction out of him.

_"Well done, Tom!"_ Elliott exclaimed merrily as he rolled out of the pile. _"You sure as hell saved my sorry a—"_

"Do you think it's going to come back?" Smorf interrupted.

Toby shrugged. "I have no idea." Then he glanced up…The sky was a bit darker than he last remembered. The shadows of the walls were also longer. "Time flies in this place…"

_"They're twenty-six hours in a day, Tom, but it's night most of the time."_

"Why?"

_"We're underground—the sun's not real. It gets exhausted quickly."_

That was something of a relief. Toby didn't mind traveling in the dark so long as he got four whole days to find his nephew.

"How well can you see in the dark?"

_"No better than you can. Our buddy Smorf here has damn good night vision, though. He's a goblin, after all…"_

Toby turned his face to Smorf, but the small goblin shook his head vehemently. "Please don't throw me!"

"I'll throw Elliott until it's too dark to see." He bit his lower lip. "What do we do when the sun goes down? I don't want to stop."

_"Find a worm, of course. They can give us food and directions. We'll rest when you're too tired to move anymore."_

"The why don't we ask _those_ things for directions?" Toby asked, pointing to a patch of the peculiar 'eye-beings' nestled in the holes of the walls. Said beings blinked at Toby simultaneously before receding as he took a step forward.

_"They don't talk,"_ Elliott explained with a sigh. _"And even if they did, they wouldn't have half the heart to help us. They're just eyes for the king."_

"What's he like?"

_"Hm?"_

"The king." Toby stared down at Smorf. "The Wishing Well said that becoming a 'goblin' only meant that a person would become an inhabitant of the Labyrinth. Is the king like you?"

Smorf shook his head. "My people were here long before the king came. He made the Labyrinth and organized us into a kingdom, but people just don't _turn_ into us. He's a sorcerer of sorts…he looks like you humans…and fairies…"

"Why'd he build the Labyrinth?"

"Don't know."

"Why does he kidnap children?"

Smorf shrugged. "Because he's lonely? There's no one quite like him around here…"

Because he was _lonely_?

Toby tried to think about it…He supposed…maybe a person _could_ get lonely in a crowd. This place was chalk full of oddities.

Shrugging off his curiosity for the time being, he leaned down to pick up Elliott. He tossed the rock into the air and headed through the hole in the wall after the rock declared that '_that-a-way!'_ would get them closer to the castle than their previous plan.

Smorf just fixed his helmet and wobbled on along behind them.

Toby would find his nephew soon enough.

-3-Jareth the Goblin King-3-

_'It doesn't matter…I'll never reach it.'_

Jareth didn't know if he was more surprised or disappointed by the tone in Toby's voice. The young man seemed to be a little shy in the beginning, but Jareth didn't expect him to be this downcast. He wondered how Sarah's brother could've turned out this way—where was the fierce passion he saw in his sister? Where was that arrogant flare of pride and honour? Toby acted as though he was being suppressed by some unseen force…

Perhaps there were different expectations of him as a child? Sarah didn't seem to be too keen of the boy's mother...

Toby was smart—Jareth would give him that. He might've not had Sarah's fire in his eye, but a quick mind would serve him just as well. It had been a while since an intellect ran through the Labyrinth. It might be fun.

He did well against the troll.

Jareth frowned. Speaking of trolls…

He tilted his staff again, the vision of the young man and his company switching to a scene of the wall. Stones were flying miraculously back into place, the magic of the Labyrinth stepping up to plate to repair itself. The troll nearly crushed Toby when he broke through…that was unacceptable.

He needed to send someone wiser to stop the boy.

Jareth took a moment to gaze down at the infant sleeping in the crook of his other arm. The babe was quiet, content; entirely at peace with itself.

Sleep.

That would work too.

Jareth smiled.

A/N: **(1)** All of these riddles were taken from the internet at riddles-online (. com). None of them are mine.

Well, there's chapter three. Thanks for taking the time to read this ;D. I hope you enjoyed it!


	4. The Gwyllion

A/N: Just a quick note before I move on to the story. With a helpful bit of advice from myladyswardrobe, I edited the story from present tense to past tense. I apologize if this caused any confusion.

Title: The Unexpected (Chapter Four)

Fandom: Labyrinth

Spoilers: The movie

Rating: Pg-13

Prompts/Challenges: (the list is written at the bottom of the page)

Disclaimer: I don't the Labyrinth or anything related to it.

Chapter Length: 5690 words

Timeline: Takes place approximately _**twenty-two**__ years_ after the movie

Summary: _Toby's always lived his life by the natural laws—laws of science and reason. The sudden disappearance of his newborn nephew, however, brings to light a whole new meaning of reality…_

Toby had never been a big fan of tea.

…But he liked this kind.

Taking another sip, he set the cup back on its saucer before placing it down on the stone table. Having made their way through the stone portion of the Labyrinth, his company found themselves within a more traditional image of a maze. The high hedges were classical and funny-looking knobby trees added a humorous touch to the place.

They wandered along aimlessly for a while until they reached a small clearing. It was then that they discovered an old goblin with a bird sitting on his head, and a worm, who, despite his size, was having the time of his life drinking a bit of Earl Grey from a regular sized cup.

Needless to say, they joined them.

Except for Elliott…who really couldn't drink tea…

"So…you're not here to stop us?"

The older, wiser goblin leaned his head a little to the right and glanced down at Smorf peculiarly. Toby, who was sitting across from the quiet elder, could see a kind of twinkle in his eye. "I do not approve of the game."

"Aren't you afraid he's going to punish you?"

"Aren't you?"

Smorf shrugged, reaching over to grab another cookie from the plate on their table. They were full of blueberries (to Toby's great distress). "He let Hoggle off easy."

"His majesty has a certain degree of respect for the old and the wise," the elder explained. The bird on his head rolled his eyes. "While I do not approve of this sport, I take care not to hinder his majesty either."

"So…if an ogre suddenly popped out of nowhere and decided to eat us, you wouldn't stop him?"

Elliott made a huffing noise from where he sat on the table, careful not to knock Toby's teacup over as he wobbled in agitation. _"That's what he's __**implying**__, you dolt."_

"If you surrendered to the Labyrinth, I could help you escape said 'ogre'," the elder clarified, "but I am too now old to play."

Smorf snatched another cookie and nearly inhaled it as he crammed it into his mouth. "Just because you're old doesn't mean you can't play. He could've asked you to poison us."

"True, but I'm _old_ enough to know better. Many years of servitude to the king have shown me the error of his ways. I've grown wiser."

The bird on his head muttered something about that statement being a load of crud, but with a quick snap from the old goblin it shut its beak immediately. Elliott 'giggled'.

"_Kidnapping infants __**is**__ a bit intense…but the goblins have taken people of various ages before. It's usually only children that come across the storybook and the magic words."_

Magic words…

Yes, wasn't there something about magic words? Toby knew a person had to be 'wished' away in order for the goblins to take them, but wasn't there a phrase that had to be said to retrieve them? Didn't the girl in the book have a little speech near the end of her journey…something about power…?

"_You look pale, Tom."_

"It's dark," Toby muttered, glancing up at the fake sky. The sun was down and the fiery pinks and oranges of dusk were beginning to fade into darkness. "Of course I look pale."

"_Would you like a candle?"_ The worm piped happily. He was a funny little fellow with blue fur and a red scarf.

Toby sized him up quietly and wondered how big exactly a worm-made candle would be. "…How long will it last if I light it?"

"_It's enchanted,"_ the small fellow explained as it creeped over the far end of the table and out of sight. _"So long as you don't get it wet, it'll last forever!"_

"_If we dry it, will it still work?"_ Elliott asked as the worm suddenly reappeared from the darkness, straining to pull itself back over the edge of the table. Toby had no idea where it disappeared to, but now it had a small candle curled up at the end of its tail.

"_Not quite. You can light it again, but it'll work just like a regular candle. The wax would melt eventually."_

"_Well, who on earth would make something as stupid as that?"_

"_Don't know, but that's the fun of it being enchanted."_

Elliott didn't bother arguing. In the Labyrinth, that made sense.

Toby took another sip of tea and reached over to take the candle. He asked what the worm wanted in return for it, but their small host said their company was more than enough in the way compensation. After all, it wasn't very often that new faces dropped by the have tea…

"How do I light it?"

"Blow on it," the old goblin explained, "and then blow on it again if you want to put it out."

Elliott laughed, _"What if it gets windy?"_

"The wind doesn't work on it. Only a person's breath."

"Looks like you won't be fooling around with it then," Smorf said gleefully. Elliott rolled toward his tea, but Smorf was able to lift the cup before he could knock it over.

"Play nice," Toby muttered before puffing out a small breath of air at the wick. A violent burst of flame appeared before the fire simmered down into something safe and decent. Since the bottom was flat, Toby was able to stand it up next to the plate of cookies. "Be careful not to knock it over, Elliott."

"_If I knocked it onto Smorf, would you be angry?"_

"Yes."

"_Drats…"_

"_You have an interesting choice in companions,"_ the worm observed. Then he made a soft humming noise of indifference and leaned forward into his cup to take a sip.

"I didn't choose them. They chose me."

Elliott giggled again, but Toby didn't think it had anything to do with what he just said. The rock was probably plotting something devious…

"Do you mind if I ask…" Toby began hesitantly, looking at the elder a little penitently, "…why you look so old. I met a Wishing Well and he said that no one in this place was really affected by time, that none of the inhabitants can age without the king's explicit permission."

"The king can only have a kingdom so long as it lasts, and he, young man, will last forever. It only makes sense that he would want to preserve what is rightly his for as long as possible…He doesn't quite understand the concept of age." The bird on the old goblin's head had nothing to say against that. It looked as though it agreed. "I, however, existed in this place long before Jareth came to make his Labyrinth. I was old then and I will remain that way for a while yet."

"It doesn't bother you that you're old?"

"There is nothing to fear in age, young man. You humans live a short time in the Aboveground—you have a great fear of death, of having to deal with the aches and pains that come with old age. You will meet many beings in this place that share a different view, some who are even older than I. They would not surrender their age for anything in the world."

Toby could remember his father's sixtieth birthday. His old man smiled when Toby's mother made a comment about the obvious winkles around his mouth and eyes.

His father said they served to remind him of his several years of laughter.

Toby smirked a little and finished off his tea.

"_I think we should get going,"_ Elliott huffed after failing to knock over Smorf's cup a second time. _"We're not even half way to the castle yet."_

"_Aren't you tired?"_ The worm asked curiously.

"_Me? No, but we're going as far as we can."_

"_Would you like a bit of advice for your journey?"_

Remembering the Wishing Well's warning, Toby shook his head. "No, but if you can offer us directions to the castle, it would be most appreciated."

"_Alright. Keep heading north. You'll find a forest somewhere up ahead, but don't fall asleep until you've passed it. They've got some weird characters roaming about…"_

North. Good. That's where they wanted to head anyway.

After exchanging a brief goodbye, Toby tucked Elliott under his arm and waited as Smorf grabbed a handful of cookies before heading back into the maze of hedges. The old goblin pointed them in the direction of north and Smorf wobbled ahead of Toby's candlelight to look out for anything suspicious.

Elliott hummed _'A Hunting We Will Go'_ gently to the beat of Toby's pace.

-1-Jareth the Goblin King-1-

"Fruit."

The goblin blinked, scratched its head and shrugged. "What do you mean?"

"He's human. He can't eat our fruit…" he explained, "…lest he fall under an enchantment."

Jareth lowered his swagger stick. Having observed Toby as he drank with the worm (—not only noticed the hungry look he gave the blueberry cookies but also the blatant determination in his eyes not to touch them—) it was plain to see that someone warned him about the fruit. Jareth hadn't known of Toby's whereabouts in the Labyrinth until after Smorf sent his message—perhaps it was the Wishing Well that warned him?

What else did the well tell him?

"You're…going to feed him fruit then?"

"In a way," Jareth replied. "He's not stupid. I just can't give him a peach."

"…What do you want me to do?"

Jareth doesn't miss the hint of excitement in his minion's voice. The level of noise from the other goblin's had died considerably since Jareth summoned him forward, each wishing they could take part in the game. Their devious nature was getting the best of them.

It was getting the best of him too.

With a small smile, he said, "I have a gift for the Gwyllion."

-2-Toby Williams-2-

It was a bit difficult trying to rub his eye while holding a rock and a candle. Elliott fell silent a while after the pitch black veil of night settled over the sky and he was beginning to get exhausted. He needed to rest. They'd gotten far in his first day against the Labyrinth.

Toby could make out the faint specks of stars above his head. It was windy, but the gust of air blowing in his face did nothing to hinder the small flame of his candle. It was valuable gift. He'd have to thank the worm properly if he ever got of this mess.

"I think we're going to have to stop soon."

"…_M'kay…"_

Toby bounced the rock a little, trying wake his friend. "...You're not asleep, are you?"

"_What?"_

"You don't eat, you don't drink and you don't breathe—why would you need to _sleep_?"

"_I don't…I'm just…"_

Toby stopped mid-step and shook his companion again. Elliott made a sound akin to a yawn and fell quiet.

…How was this possible? Elliott didn't eat anything back when they had tea. Was he under some sort of enchantment…?

"Hey, Smorf!" Toby waited. After receiving no reply, he began to panic. "…Smorf?"

Toby raised his candle and took a few steps forward, glancing once over his shoulder to see if anyone was following them. Smorf could see in the dark—but that didn't mean he was stupid enough to run ahead of Toby.

Damn. This couldn't mean anything other than trouble.

Muttering under his breath, Toby quickened his pace and strode past the first few turns in the path until he reached a dead end. Cursing, he backtracked to the previous turn and took a left.

"Elliott!" Toby gave Elliott a hard shake, thought he heard a noise from the rock, and shook him again. "What's wrong? Speak to me!"

"_W-war…"_

"…War?"

"_No…wa…"_

"…Okay. Just give me a sec. I lost Smorf."

"…_Wha…?"_

"I lost Smorf."

"_Oh…"_

He considered calling out for the goblin, but he didn't know what was out there. He already had his candle, which was about as close to a beacon as he could get. There was no need to alarm every inhabitant of the Labyrinth of his whereabouts…

Then he saw another light up ahead.

Toby was hesitant at first, but after a moment of deliberation he edged forward to a small parting in the hedges and found himself staring a another small clearing. It wasn't quite as windy inside and the raging fire looked inviting. The lone figure sitting hunched up beside it resembled the farthest thing from the monster he expected to find lurking there. It was an old woman and she looked cold.

"Come. Sit." She waved to him with a small smile, munching on a piece of bread. "Are you a friend of the goblin?"

"Smorf?"

"Small and rat-like?" she asked. After he nodded, she laughed. "He went to retrieve my hat, my dear. This wind has gone and stolen it from me."

"How long ago was that?"

"No more than a minute."

Toby glanced at the small campsite, looking for a bag or satchel big enough to conceal his friend. There were a couple of small wooden dolls set close to the entrance, away from the fire, along with two miniature carved pumpkins, grinning toothily at him with an animated flicker of fiery life behind their slanted eyes. All the old woman had in her visibly possession were these strange little figurines and the loaf of bread currently cradled in her small knobby hands.

"I won't be here long," he said as he stepped forward and took a seat adjacent to her by the fire. He wanted to keep a view of the entrance in the corner of his eye.

"It's cold. Warm your bones until your friend returns."

For the most part, Toby was glad he was wearing a turtleneck. It'd been warmer during the day, but Toby could deal with the heat. It was the cold that bothered him.

"Hungry?"

Toby glanced at the small bun the woman offered to him and shook his head. He was still wary of accepting gifts. "No thank you…"

"You look famished, my dear. Look…" she broke off a piece and ate it herself, proving its worth as normal bread, "…I take it you're foreign to this land."

"I'm from—" he stopped himself short and just nodded instead. "Yes..."

She handed him the bun and he bit into one end. It was a spicy, but soft. Somehow, the taste reminded him of thanksgiving dinner…

He hoped Sarah and Simon were alright…

"What's on your mind?"

He took another bite and shrugged. "Nothing…"

"Then…would you mind if I asked you why you're carrying that rock?"

Toby glanced down at the stone in his lap and tried to think of a reasonable alibi. Elliott was…

"I took him because he looked like a football."

"A…'football'…?"

…She probably didn't know what that was.

Toby smiled nervously and took another bite from his bun.

"Are you traveling far, young man?"

"…Something like that."

She smiled warmly. "Then beware the Gwyllion."

"…I'm sorry, the _what_?"

"Gwyllion," she repeated, setting the half-eaten loaf of bread down as she picked up a small stick beside her. Poking the fire, she continued, "It is a fairy-beast that roams along the mountain side. The Gwyllion is known for leading travelers astray."

Toby blinked. "It doesn't eat people, does it…?"

"Heavens, no!" she exclaimed, choking on her own laughter. "The Gwyllion is mischievous, but it doesn't actually harm anyone. You see, though it lives in the mountains, it wanders into the Labyrinth every once in a while…Many things, both hideous and enchanting, come to this place seeking refuge from the Aboveground."

Toby licked his dry lips and shook his head. "You must already know I'm not from this place…or anywhere near here either."

With that same knowing little smile, she nodded. "You look human enough…although, if you told me you _were_ an inhabitant of the Labyrinth, that wouldn't surprise me much either. The name of '_goblin_' can be given to just about anything that lives here and you already have an 

unnatural sparkle in your eye. This place is beginning to take its affect on you, and you…have you been here before?"

"No," he replied, but he couldn't shake the feeling that maybe she was right. The atmosphere, the touch of magic…something about this place was familiar. Maybe he was just thinking of Sarah? After all, sometimes he imagined she was from another world…

He took another bite from his bun—and winced when a piece of hot wax slid over his index finger. The candle in his hand was beginning to melt.

But it wasn't wet.

Startled, he dropped his bun and glanced down at Elliott. Both his rock companion and the candle had been changed into everyday mundane objects, their natural powers having been nullified by some unseen force.

Feeling the creeping chill of terror tingle along his scalp, the hair on the back of his neck beginning to stand on end, he turned his head toward the entrance of the small clearing. His eyes fell on the strange wooden figures, suddenly noticing the small bit of white paint on their tiny little faces.

Now he understood what Elliott was trying to tell him:

_Wards_.

"Your friends are quite knowledgeable," the old woman explained, staring at the fire as she prodded at it again. "No power can work within this place but my own, and you, my young friend, have made the mistake of eating my bread. Those pumpkins were a gift from the Goblin King and I used them to add flavor to the dough…"

That would explain why the bun tasted so familiar. Technically speaking, pumpkins fell under the 'scientific' term of _fruit_, but Toby had never given much thought to them before…

"What are you going to do to me?" He asked, rising to his feet, Elliott tucked under one arm, the candle held steady in his free hand.

"Do not fear me," she said, glancing up at him briefly. "I am the Gwyllion and I wish you no harm. Like your goblin friend, you will sleep, and when you wake you will find yourself in another place. By then, your destination will be too far for you to reach within the time you have allotted yourself and I suppose, young man, that you will be wise enough surrender to the Goblin King. He will not harm you either."

The worm warned him against such things—he said there were strange characters lurking within the Labyrinth, but Toby had been too foolish to listen.

There was no way he could trust anyone, could he?

Cursing under his breath, Toby turned sharply on his heel and fled from the campsite. He ran through the passageways, trying to backtrack as far as he could go, but eventually his limbs began to feel heavy and his skin tingled hotly as though he was sitting too close to a fire. The magic from the pumpkin-bun was beginning to take its toll on him and he could do nothing to stop it.

By the time he collapsed, leaning heavily against one of the hedge walls as he tried to get back up again, Elliott began to shake off the suppressive powers of the Gwyllion's wards.

"…_Tom…Tom, can you hear me?"_

"I'm going to lose," he choked out painfully, flesh crawling, eyes stinging. He tried to blink the tears away, feeling very much as though he'd just swallowed a jar full of jalapeño peppers. His breath was hot on his tongue. "I _can't_ lose. I can't _afford_ to lose…"

"_It's okay, Tom. Tell me what happened."_

"There was a Gwyllion—she tricked me. I'm such a fool…"

"_Gwyllion…"_ Elliott muttered. His voice sounded distant. _"It's okay Tom. She can't send us anywhere outside this realm. Wherever we're going, we'll still be inside the Labyrinth."_

"What if it's an oubliette?"

Elliott didn't say anything.

"_Just keep walking Tom. We'll think of something."_

Grateful to have someone—even if it was just a _rock_—eased a bit of the weight off his shoulders. Elliott was smart for an inanimate object, and he was empathetic too.

Now, where the hell was Smorf…?

Toby tried to call out the goblin's name. If they were going to be sent somewhere strange, he wanted to at least keep their team together.

Then again, the Gwyllion told Toby she'd seen the goblin already. What if she eliminated him? What if she sent him somewhere else?

In any case, Toby hoped the goblin was someplace better than here.

The glowing eyes ahead of him froze him in his tracks.

"_Tom…?"_

"Elliott, I…"

His head was swimming. Toby tried to stand straight, but he began leaning to the left and collided with one of the hedge walls. He struggled just to keep Elliott tucked securely under his arm.

The predator before him growled low in its throat before taking a calculated step forward, eyes focused at the level of his chest. The candle in his hand flickered momentarily in the wind, still regaining its power after the short struggle with the Gwyllion's wards, but the beast took care to stay clear of its halo. It moved a little to the right, just outside the candle's reach.

Toby's vision blurred momentarily.

The beast moved a little further to the right.

His vision blurred again.

"_Tom!"_

And then he felt the incredible weight of two massive paws as they landed squarely on his shoulders, the creature's breath hot against his face and it tackled him to the ground. Its claws tore through the material of his shirt and into his flesh, and the last thing he remembered before he descended into darkness was the lighter sensation in his right arm as Elliott tumbled from his reach.

He had truly failed Sarah.

At least he could say he died trying.

A/N: …It's not the end, but I'm sure you already guessed that. I'm not going to kill of Toby…

…or am I?

By the way, if there's a mistake that's bothering you, don't worry about pointing it out. I don't mind.


	5. The Chasm and the King

Title: The Unexpected (Chapter Five)

Fandom: Labyrinth

Spoilers: The movie

Rating: Pg-13

Disclaimer: I don't the Labyrinth or anything related to it.

Chapter Length: 4817 words

Timeline: Takes place approximately _**twenty-two**__ years_ after the movie

Summary: _Toby's always lived his life by the natural laws—laws of science and reason. The sudden disappearance of his newborn nephew, however, brings to light a whole new meaning of reality…_

* * *

He woke in a daze, body floating numbly beneath the surface of consciousness. There was a dull ache in his arms where the beast caught him by the shoulders and he was beginning to sport one hell of a wall-banger headache.

Groaning, his arm shook slightly as he lifted his hand to his face. At least he wasn't burning up inside anymore.

He was freezing instead.

There was a twinge of pain in his left knee, the joint still sore from when the troll broke through the wall, but aside from a few scrapes and bruises he felt relatively fine. Fortunately enough, he was still alive. That was more than he could've hoped for.

Daring to open his eyes, he blinked rapidly under the brilliance of the sun until his vision cleared. It was cold, but at least it was bright.

How long had he been asleep?

"Tommy!"

It took Toby a moment to recognize the voice. As soon as Smorf leaned over his face, subsequently blocking the light from his eyes, he felt something of a smile tug at the corner of his lips.

"Is Elliott anywhere nearby?" he asked quietly, choosing to lie down a bit longer before he had to deal with his oncoming migraine. "Please tell me he's still with us…"

"_All together and accounted for, Tom."_

"Thank God. I wasn't sure what kind of effect the Gwyllion's magic would've had on you."

"_Nothing special, Tom, but…there's something else you should know about…"_

Toby rolled his head to the left, too lazy to fight gravity as he remained lying flat on the ground. Elliott was wobbling oddly from side to side in agitation.

Smorf pointed toward Toby's feet.

Worried, he propped himself up onto his elbows and just _stared_…

Looking over the cliff, he took note of the canyon stretched out before him, the Goblin Castle barely a speck on the horizon. They weren't even _in_ the Labyrinth anymore.

"I thought you said the Gwyllion couldn't send us anywhere outside the Goblin Kingdom!"

"_She didn't…sort of. Technically speaking, we're still __**inside**__ the Labyrinth. The canyon is a natural maze of its own—the king didn't have to build any walls within it."_

Toby hefted himself up into a sitting position and shivered. "Why is it so cold here? It's not windy, it's just…"

"Magic," Smorf offered with a weary sigh. "This is the _Frozen North_. It has to be cold for…naming purposes."

"Who in their right mind would make a place like this?"

"We have a Bog of Eternal Stench," Smorf explained, "so I don't see how _this_ can be considered odd."

"_The southernmost part of the Labyrinth is the usual starting point for most challengers, Tom. Since most of our 'visitors' are children, it's the safest place for them to be—they're in more danger of coming across something gross than something life-threatening. __**This**__ place, however, is full of misfits from other worlds, some of which are outcasts from the Aboveground."_

"Like what?"

"_Like the lovely old woman sitting behind us."_

Toby turned his head sharply and pushed himself up onto his knees, scrambling to turn his back away from his new threat. Smorf moved aside, but neither of his companions seemed alarmed by the presence of their strange visitor.

The woman was indeed old, but she had aged with grace, more like a grandmother who'd spent more of her time in an art gallery than baking cookies in a kitchen. There were small crowfeet at the corner of her eyes and a few faint lines around her mouth, but her fair complexion was near flawless and her skin almost glowed. Her short-cropped hair was feather white and her eyes, which were pale blue, froze Toby in place with a stare that was both cold and severe. She sat there in her long grey robes with an air of elegance, back straight and posture perfect. Like a queen.

Toby felt like a small boy in her presence. He supposed this _woman_ must have been one of the creatures the old goblin had been talking about earlier—someone who wouldn't sacrifice their age for anything.

"…Who are you?"

"Who am _I_?" the woman asked, soundly slightly insulted by the lack of manners. But then she smiled. "I have been known by many names over the last few centuries, but you, my dear friend, may call me Tearsa."

"_She's a Barghest…"_ Elliott murmured in a hushed voice, sounding both apprehensive and awed.

"She's old." Smorf added. "I thought grandmother's were supposed to be benevolent…"

The woman's cold eyes focused briefly on the goblin before she returned her gaze to Toby. "…I know why you're here, boy. I can help you, if you'd like…"

Toby felt threatened by her (he'd never been as brave as Sarah), but he wasn't stupid. "Thank you, but the Gwyllion taught me a thing or two about accepting gifts from strangers." Then he frowned, pointing his finger accusingly in her direction. He knew what a Barguest was, a demon dog that portended misfortune or death. "Besides, _you're_ the one that attacked me last night. I see no reason why I should trust you."

Something flashed behind her eyes, but her smile only grew. "You're a clever little boy…"

"I'm not a boy."

"You're right, I suppose…" she sighed. Then, before he even blink, she whipped out a long black switch from within the folds of her robe and tapped the end gently against the side of his cheek. "Boys still have at little fat on their faces. You're cheeks, my dear, are hollow…like the king." She snapped the end of it quickly, striking him sharply just beneath the eye. It bit into the flesh and he bled. "But you're too scrawny to be a man. There's no room for featherweights in this world, I'm afraid. It's either _eat_ or be _eaten_."

Toby touched the cut on his face gingerly and rose to his feet. She was fast for an elder. He didn't want to deal with her.

"I sought refuge from the human world and settled here in the north," she explained in a bored tone of voice, almost as though her previous attack had been perfectly normal behaviour. "The king would not permit me to live further inside of the Labyrinth due to my nature, but I _do_, however, know my way to the south end of the kingdom."

Tom hesitated.

"How long will it take us?" Smorf asked.

"A week, at most. You'll need to walk _around_ the kingdom if you want to avoid any of the dangers."

Tom shook his head, heart sinking at her news, "I don't _have_ a week. I was given four days to solve the Labyrinth and I'm already on my second."

"Almost at the end of it," she corrected absently. "You only have a few hours before the sun sets."

Tom's eyes darted down to Smorf. The goblin lowered his face and hid beneath the shadow of his helmet.

…He been asleep for nearly a day.

"You were attacked by a _Gwyllion_!" Tearsa laughed. "What did you expect, young man? That old hag is quite loyal to the king."

"And you're _not_?"

She quirked an eyebrow in a peculiar way, the corner of her lip curling up in mild amusement. "I told you before—I wasn't permitted to live within the walls of the Goblin City. My _bite_ is a bit too much for the younger challengers."

"Then what were you doing there last night?"

"I may not be able to _live_ there, but I'm certainly allowed to _visit_ a few old friends." Her eyes narrowed dangerously, but it only added to her air of mischief. "Besides, I just _had_ to see the one and only Toby Williams."

His eyes widened in alarm. He almost wanted ask her how she knew his name, but she probably already read his mind.

"I'm one of the more _serious_ obstacles in your path, young man. I have the right to know who you are and who you've come to save—that's the power of the Labyrinth. _It_ knows you better than you know yourself."

That would explain the difficulty of his challenges. All Toby could remember from the storybook was the bog Smorf mentioned earlier and a weird pit that was inhabited by something called 'The Helping Hands'—_he_, however, had found himself face to face with a massive troll, a Gwyllion, and a harbinger of death and destruction. Tearsa wasn't someone he wanted to face off with in her hellish form.

Not that _this_ form was much easier to handle, but in any case…

"If you're an obstacle, why would you offer to help me?"

"Everything comes at a price." Her eyes darted to his pocket and he reached inside to find the magic candle the worm gave him earlier. When she pointed to it, he knew he wouldn't be able to bargain with anything else.

"…How can I trust you?"

"You can't," she stated matter-of-factly, "but I can give you my word that I will get you to the Goblin City before the sun sets on the fourth day. I might cut you close on your time-limit, but I'll get you there in one piece."

"What about them?" He gestured to Smorf and Elliott.

"I won't destroy them, but if they lag behind you'll have to offer me something else to go back and get them. You're the only one that needs to meet the king face to face in order to win."

Smorf shrugged and Elliott bumped into his foot.

"_No problem, Tom. We can take care of ourselves."_

"What about the troll incident?"

"_A small set-back. I'm ready now to run the distance."_

"Good luck with the whole 'running' business."

"_Ha ha…"_

Toby leaned down to pick up Elliott and the candle. He hesitated for a moment, eyes lingering on the worm's gift before he stepped forward and handed it over to Tearsa. Her eyes flashed again as she examined it, looking entirely too pleased with herself for Toby's taste.

"Very well then…" The candle disappeared within the folds of her robe and she stood up, using the switch now as a walking cane instead of a weapon. "…shall we?"

"Lead the way…" Smorf muttered.

-1-Jareth the Goblin King-1-

"They've met with Tearsa," Jareth murmured quietly. The goblin sitting by his elbow kept its eyes fixed on the crystal in his hand. "…How are the preparations?"

"Everything's going exactly as planned, your majesty."

Jareth sighed…then stretched his legs. He handed Sarah's infant son over to one of the older, more cultivated goblins and stood, straightening his cape.

Now that the old fiend was in the game, it was about time he intervened. He didn't want the Barghest coming anywhere near the city, not with the baby here. She could be ruthless in her ways…

"Where's he going?" One of the goblin's shrieked, busy judging a staring match between two of his comrades while trying to yank its hair free from the vicious grasp of another.

Someone else muttered that they had no idea and then Jareth vanished.

-2-Toby Williams-2-

"What's this?"

Tearsa smiled, almost managing to look sincere in a elderly sort of way. "It's a shortcut."

Uh-huh…

They'd walked along the canyon's palisade for almost an hour, the mouth of the canyon itself standing hundreds of feet above their heads. They made a sharp turn along a sharp corner and found themselves standing before a small cave.

It was '_glittery_'.

Toby didn't trust it.

"You made the choice," Tearsa pointed out before she blew on the candle wick and stepped inside. The candlelight made the cave glitter even more. "You sacrificed your safety for a less time-consuming path to the Goblin City. There's no going back now."

He bit his lower lip and edged closer to the edge of the cliff, staring down at the gaping abyss below.

Smorf tugged at his sleeve. "What's wrong, Tommy?"

Toby shrugged, stepping back carefully toward the palisade wall. "It's nothing…I have a little fear of heights."

Smorf cocked his head to one side in a curious way and Elliott moved in his arms.

"_Did something happen to you?"_

"Sort of…" he shrugged again. "When I was in elementary, Sarah made a kite for me. One summer I went to the park on my own and I got it stuck in a tree, but instead of coming home to ask for help I made the mistake of climbing up there by myself…"

It was a sour memory for Toby—and probably one of the most painful. Small as he was back then, the higher branches couldn't support his weight and he fell several feet to the ground. Some of the other branches slowed his fall (twisting his knee and spraining a wrist in the process), but he still managed to break his collarbone and fracture his arm in two places. He was terrified…and he laid there for what felt like hours until a stranger passed by.

Toby shook his head and stepped ahead of Smorf, leading the hesitant goblin into the cave after Elliott and himself. It took him a moment to realize that the cave was full of ice, the walls shimmering like a hundred-thousand tiny gems under the light of their small enchanted candle.

Then they came to a break in the tunnel.

"Which way do we go?" Smorf asked after nearly bumping into Toby's legs. He'd stopped himself short of the two pathways. "Left or Right?"

Tearsa tapped her lips thoughtfully. "…Can't quite remember…"

Toby frowned.

"_Very well—Tearsa, if you please, take one path and Smorf, good fellow, take the other. Return in a few moments so we can collect ourselves."_

"As if I'm going _anywhere_ alone in this place!" Smorf exclaimed—then reached up and took Elliott from Toby's grasp.

"_As if I'll be any help…"_ Elliott muttered in reply, but he allowed himself to be manhandled by the goblin as they trailed off to the left, Tearsa gliding down the right tunnel with the candle still in hand.

Toby was left alone suddenly in the soft glimmer of the crystalline light.

He stood quietly for a few minutes, rubbing a bit of warmth into his shoulders, and then licked his dry lips. He was as hungry as hell and more than just a little tired.

Scratching his chin, he realized something.

He opened his hand and ran it along his chin a second time, noting how it managed to remain smooth from his shave yesterday…Maybe this was what everyone was telling him about, the lack of growth and aging in the Goblin Kingdom. The Labyrinth had already taken a far greater hold of him than he expected in such little time.

What about the baby?

A cry of pain coming from the left tunnel startled him out of his reverie and he automatically called out for Smorf. He was answered with silence…before another shout echoed in the cave, sounding more distant than the last.

Reaching out into the dim glow of the cave, his hand connected with the smooth ice walls and he began to wander his way along Smorf's path. He felt a bit foolish for leaving his 'post', but he was a idiot for not following them in the first place. In any case—

—he fell…and he fell _hard_.

Toby tried to curse but the wind was knocked clear out of him as he landed on something hard, bits and pieces of ice raining down on him from the passageway above. His hip smarted from his graceless landing and a twinge of pain shot up his already sore knee.

He coughed, brushing ice from his hair as he gazed down at his arms to inspect the damage. There was a new tear in his left sleeve and his skin looked sickly pale beneath the ethereal glow of the cavern's ice. It felt surreal; numbing. For a moment, he almost believed this was all a dream.

Maybe this was a dream…

Toby coughed again, trying to collect himself as he shoved himself up onto his feet. With his hip and his knee smarting, the left side of his body felt more than just a little worse for wear—but he _knew_ he wasn't dreaming and he _knew_ he could find a way out of this place. He just needed a second to catch his breath…

"Elliott!" He yelled, voice reverberating off the walls. He waited…listened…and heard a cry for help behind him.

Turning sharply on his heel, Toby stared down the new tunnel before taking a tentative step forward. Navigating his way around pieces of debris from the hole he made in the passage above, he made it to the turn up ahead and suddenly found himself standing before a pit.

On the other side, he could hear his companions.

The unearthly glow of the icy tunnel only added to the ominous air of the abyss lying between him and the two smaller comrades of his party. It almost looked as though a bridge had once stood there to allow access to the other side, but now it was long gone, destroyed by one atrocity or another.

It was too far for Toby to jump, and besides…

…he was absolutely terrified of heights.

Toby leaned forward slightly and watched as a chip of ice rolled down into the pit…only to be swallowed up by the darkness below.

"Oh, _hell_…" he muttered.

"_Tsk_, _tsk_—such language for a fine young man."

Toby nearly fell into the pit as he whipped around to face the newcomer. This was the perfect time for something unimaginable to sneak up on him and pitch him head first into the abyss.

"At this point, I'm beyond caring," Toby replied, but he prevented himself from adding something insulting to his retort when his eyes fell on the stranger. He was just…unusual, even in a place such as this…

The man was a tall fellow. He was robed and hooded, swallowed up by the darkness of his attire, and his face was concealed behind a perfectly carved silver mask—one that resembled a demon's skull, brows furrowed and horns pointed upward. The man was old…but not old like Tearsa or the Gwyllion. 'Fatherly'…in a way that was really neither young nor old; ageless. He spoke with an authoritative quality to his voice, rich and proud in a manner that was almost more regal than Tearsa's, and he stood in a way that demanded Toby's utmost respect.

His voice was familiar…Toby just couldn't put a face to it…

"I hope you weren't planning on jumping…" the man said, evidently amused.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he replied.

"Then if you turn back now, you'll find a way to the surface. These caves weren't built by human hands."

"I guessed as much."

"Did you?" Toby could hear the smile in his voice. "I think you need to stretch your imagination a little…"

Toby glanced over his shoulder at the abyss. Smorf and Elliott were awfully quiet… "How do you suggest I do that?"

"Don't tell me you're not willing to _try_?" the man mused aloud. His voice…something about it set Toby on edge. Was it the accent? Was the mockery that dripped from every syllable? "Isn't there a part of you that wants to _jump_, that wants to find a way around this predicament so you can find your friends? I suppose…if you _tried_…you could take a running leap across that chasm. It's no more than a trench, _really_…"

"I'm not stupid. That would be suicidal."

The stranger sighed, "I suppose you believe this whole game isn't quite _fair_…?"

Toby opened his mouth to speak…but then he closed it, stopping himself short from agreeing. "No…it's my fault that I'm here."

The stranger was silent. He lifted his hands and rested them on his hips, tilting his had ever-so-slightly to the left as he inspected Toby…

Toby felt like a child again, being scrutinized for coming home late after school.

"Tell me…do you know who I am?"

Toby nodded, wondering for a moment if he should even reply. "…You're the Goblin King."

Whether or not his answer surprised the man, Toby couldn't tell. The man's expression was hidden behind his mask.

The king lowered his arms and took a step forward. Toby wanted to back away, but he had nowhere to go. "…What gave me away?"

Toby shrugged, feeling foolish and a bit small before the man. "I don't know…maybe it's your voice…It's familiar…"

The king sounded genuinely curious. "From where?"

"I don't know…maybe it was the way my sister portrayed you when she read this story. The Labyrinth was her favorite book."

"For how long?" he pressed.

"…For however long I've known her…"

-3-Jareth the Goblin King-3-

He felt…content. It was an odd sort of feeling, something that escaped him most of the time when he was busy fulfilling his duties for the kingdom. He thought he scared Sarah away forever when he kidnapped her baby brother, but he doesn't suppose she would continue to cherish a story that caused her grief if she hated him with every fiber of her being. After all, if Toby managed to get his hands on the book, that meant she hadn't burned it.

Jareth tilted his head back and stared down his nose at Toby. The boy was beaten and bruised…he wasn't as vicious as his sister, but his will was strong and he had faith in his intelligence. He was sensible and respectable. Sarah would've had a few choice words for Jareth if she were in his position.

"The Labyrinth changes everyone," Jareth said, trying to shift the subject away from Sarah Williams. "Tell me—what is the one thing about yourself that you hate the most, the one thing you would change if you possessed the power to do as such?"

The young man shook his head, looking thin and ill and cold. "I don't hate myself."

"Not as a _whole_, you don't. You're intelligent—you value your education and your family. You're madly in love with a woman you want to spend the rest of your life with, and you're willing to break your neck in order to retrieve your nephew." Jareth shifted his weight to his left leg and crossed his arms, feeling at ease with the power he held over the younger Williams. "If you had no faith in your abilities you wouldn't have risen to the challenge."

The boy glanced back at the abyss, waiting, almost, for a sign from his friends.

None came.

The boy was afraid. Afraid of heights, of course—that much was evident—but there was nothing he was willing to say in his defense. He was stiff in social settings and couldn't say no to anyone. That was his weakness.

Toby Williams had little, if _any_, self value…

Maybe the Labyrinth could remedy that. In any case, the boy would serve him well if he continued to be this meek and compliant. The boy had nothing of his sister's defiance.

"I can provide you with a way across."

Toby faced Jareth once again, eyes flashing with something bolder than his usual obeisant demeanor. For a moment in time, Jareth saw a bit of Sarah Williams shine through her little brother.

"Why would _you_ help me?"

"I believe your newest companion phrased it well when she said, _'everything comes at a price'_." Jareth reached into the fold of his robes and produced a peach. "Take a bite of this and I'll call it even."

Toby shook his head, looking warily down at the fruit in his hand. "I've been warned against accepting _those_…"

"The dose is minimal, I assure you."

"And what, exactly, will it do to me?"

Jareth smiled. "In this kingdom, peaches are linked to memories. If you take a bite from this, you will grant me the permission I need to take every memory you have of your life before the age of twelve."

Toby looked horrified. "_Everything_?"

"Perhaps I didn't phrase myself correctly…" Jareth rolled the peach along the length of his arm, and then back down again when it reached his shoulder. "The only memories the Labyrinth's magic can effect are those directly related to strong emotions. You will most certainly remember the lessons you learnt in school, your name and your age—I don't have the ability to take those—but you won't remember anything pleasant. You won't remember your best friend from the second grade or your first real field trip, but you'll certainly remember all your math classes."

"That's a hefty price…"

"Not quite. Anything _unpleasant_ will remain with you. After all, a person's character is built upon the hardships they encounter…"

Toby didn't say a word.

"If you win, everything will return to you," Jareth added with a sigh, "My power over you will fade if you leave this world victorious."

"Then why bother to help me? If I make it across the chasm, I could win."

"I've played this game longer than you have, my boy…" He smiled a little behind his mask. "I know an opportunity when I see it…"

The young man was obviously puzzled by Jareth's choice of words, but he would find out what was meant soon enough. There was a time for work and a time for play—and Toby Williams most certainly had his work cut out for him. How could the boy hope to save his nephew if he couldn't keep himself from starvation?

Toby stood in silence, doing the math inside his head, before reaching out diffidently to accept the peach. Sarah wouldn't have waited, but, then again, Toby was a little wiser than his sister. He was cautious where she would've been bold.

Jareth watched as the boy lifted the peach to his mouth and took a timid bite from the king's gift. There was a muffled cry in the boy's throat as his teeth tore into the bittersweet skin and swallowed, and then the slightest breeze passed over Toby's already beaten body. He shivered, swayed, and nearly fell as the peach's enchanted took over.

The young Toby Williams looked overwhelmed.

-4-Toby Williams-4-

A sickly chill ran up along the length of his spine and ended at the base of his skull, something cold and numbing pressing tenderly against his forehead. Vague images of his childhood, pleasant days spent playing with Sarah or hammering out a jazzy tune on the piano, faded from his mind as though they were mere stray thoughts. Treasured moments of time spent laughing with his father or (few as they were) talking cheerfully with his mother slipped from his grasp like sand. It felt as though he was coming out of a long and wonderful dream, one that vanished instantly in the presence of reality.

True to his word, the goblin king had stolen all the gems of his childhood before the age of twelve.

Toby turned and tossed the peach into the abyss.

Where it belonged.

"Don't look so miserable," the king mocked, voice dripping with sarcasm and a hint of excitement, almost as though he had something else in his possession to entice Toby with. "I left you _something_ that was pleasant."

"…What?" Toby asked quietly, voice sounding as weak as he felt.

"Something that matters to the game."

Toby's shoulders slouched. It felt as though the world was sitting on his shoulders. "…Take off your mask. I don't suppose there's anything I could do to you, even if I knew who you were…"

The king shook his head slowly. "No…I think that would ruin the surprise."

"I've had my fill of surprises."

"This _world_ is full of them. You'll need to be more patient than _that_ if you ever hope to see your nephew again." The goblin king lifted his arm and pointed behind Toby. "Now go—so long as you don't look down, you can cross the chasm unhindered."

Toby glanced over his shoulder and shook his head. "…There's nothing there. I can't—"

"Have a little faith in yourself."

He frowned, and turned to argue against the king—but the man had vanished. There was nothing there…

Toby took a deep breath…and faced the chasm once again.

Closing his eyes, he took one step forward.

What did he have to lose?

A/N: Ah, damn. I don't know if I'm writing Jareth properly. If he's even the slightest bit OOC, just give me a kick and I'll try to fix it.

Thanks for all your patience.


	6. Faith

A/N: Thanks for all the wonderful reviews, you guys. You don't have to leave a comment, but it's appreciated all the same. ;D

Title: The Unexpected (Chapter Six)

Fandom: Labyrinth

Spoilers: The movie

Rating: Pg-15 (-ish, since Toby has to deal with a bit of violence)

Disclaimer: I don't own the Labyrinth or anything related to it. I'm not making any money off this story.

Chapter Length:

Timeline: Takes place approximately _**twenty-two**__ years_ after the movie

Summary: _Toby's always lived his life by the natural laws—laws of science and reason. The sudden disappearance of his newborn nephew, however, brings to light a whole new meaning of reality…_

* * *

In all honesty, Toby thought he was going to die.

But he didn't…which was odd.

And just a little bit alarming.

When he took that first fateful step over the chasm he half-expected to fall. Surprisingly, he _didn't_. Instead, the bottom of his foot connected with something solid and he was jolted back to reality with an odd sense of security.

He was tempted to open his eyes and take a look at the make-shift bridge beneath his feet but the king _specifically_ said _not_ to look down. Right? "Don't look down"—that's all he had to do.

Toby opened his eyes…

But he didn't look down.

Instead, he stared across the chasm at the other side. In the lower field of his vision he noticed that there wasn't actually anything _there_ to use as a bridge. Nevertheless, here he was…walking on thin air…

Toby preferred science to magic. Science didn't require a _literal_ leap of faith.

…Just a tiny _figurative_ one.

Taking a deep breath, he moved his other foot forward and met with the same result. After each step he took, he was a little less worried about falling and a little more worried about what hideous fate had befallen Elliott and Smorf. They were, after all, the sole reason he was out here. If not for their screaming…

"_Toooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooommmmmmm!"_

…And he was so close to the other side, too.

Elliott came barreling out the opposite end of the tunnel like a bat out of hell, rolling full speed ahead at the chasm between them. On impulse, Toby reached down with one hand to catch his friend and took a gander at the vast gaping abyss beneath his feet.

Then he too began to fall.

By some fluke, he reached out his free hand and scraped his arm against the edge of the chasm's wall, fighting to find purchase on the ice with his fingers. As he fell, his hand slipped over something solid and he clutched to it for dear life as chunks and slivers of ice rained down upon his head. There was a moment of silence, which he used to catch his breath, and then—

"_Oh my Go—"_

"What the _hell_ are you doing, Elliott?"

"_I was with Smorf and then there was a dragon—a flipp'n__** dragon**__, Tom!—and then we split up and then it chased us and then—"_

"_Slow_ down," he muttered, fingers aching from both the cold and the strain he was putting on them with their combined weight. "All I heard was something about Smorf and a dragon."

"…_Tom…were you walking on air?"_

Toby sighed, head hanging down in defeat. Catching another glimpse of the abyss he quickly shut his eye. "Yes, Elliott…but it's a bit of a long story. I want to know more about this dragon."

"_Ah, yes—there's something that looks like a dragon up ahead. The floor collapsed on us, you see, and I think we fell into its lair."_

"Is it really a dragon?"

"_No clue. It looks like a giant lizard the size of a lion and it breathes steam."_

"…Not fire?"

"_Weird—I know—but true…"_ Elliott wiggled under his arm and made a small humming noise. _"Tom…are your eyes closed?"_

"I-I thought you couldn't see."

"_Not __**really**__—I'm omnipotent!"_ Elliott declared happily (which Toby doubted), then asked rather suspiciously, _"…Was that a 'stutter' I heard?"_

"It's cold."

"_Indeed it is, but…this wouldn't be about your fear of heights, would it?"_

"No."

"_In my language, that translate to 'yes'."_

"Shut up."

"_Tom."_

Tom paused. The one in Elliott's voice was quite serious for once.

"_Tom,"_ he repeated, _"I might not be able to save you from fierce heights or steam-breathing dragons, but I vow to do whatever is in my power to keep you safe and sound until you've won the game. Even if you don't trust me…"_

"W-who says I don't trust you?"

"_The fact is, you __**shouldn't**__ trust me…or Smorf, or Tearsa—whom I'm pretty sure you __**don't **__already—because Smorf is quiet for a goblin, I'm a flipp'n 'talking' rock and Tearsa is just plain evil...Got it?"_

"Crystal clear, now…" Toby shifted his weight uneasily, shoulder protesting from the motion, "…can we move? I'm starting to lose all feeling in my hand."

"_Okay—give me a toss up. I'll get Smorf."_

Toby didn't complain. He did try his best to heave Elliott into the air, wincing when the stone landed half-off the ledge. By a stroke of luck, Elliott was able to roll himself forward, refusing to fall a second time.

"_I'll be back in a jiffy!"_ Elliott called out, voice ringing in the tunnels as he rolled off to find Smorf. Toby merely grunted in pain and tried to pull himself further up with his now-free hand.

'…_You would've made it across if it he hadn't shown up.'_

Toby's entire body froze up at the sound of the king's voice, the mocking tone echoing up to him from the darkness below. He half-expected his majesty to stick around a while longer to see the show…

"I wouldn't have made it this far if not for him."

'_True, but what if he doesn't return? I can save you…'_

"For a price," Toby muttered, taking a deep breath before he pulled himself up a few inches, digging the toe of his foot into the icy wall for better purchase, "Besides, weren't you the one that told me to 'have a little faith'?"

'_True as that may be, even if he does manage to save you, there's much worse waiting for you up ahead. If you surrender now, I promise I can be quite forgiving. There's nothing to fear in defeat.'_

"Easy for you to say."

'_Oh?'_

"You haven't lost your nephew."

'_Harsh words, young man. You're almost as stubborn as she was.'_

Toby tried to pull himself up a bit further—right hand slipping before he could right himself. He scrabbled against the wall for a second before he could catch hold again, limbs aching from the brief struggle.

"W-who's '_she_'?" Toby asked as he tried to ignore his previous mistake. He couldn't afford to give up now.

'_The last challenger from twenty-some odd years ago. You two seem like entirely different people.'_

"Probably because we _are_."

'_Hm…we'll see…'_ Toby's pseudo-name sounded in the distance and the king's unsubstantial voice hummed thoughtfully, _'Ah, yes—here comes the cavalry. Godspeed, my boy. I look forward to your capitulation.'_

Why that arrogant son-of—

"I won't—"

'—_surrender, I know. It's a phrase I've heard a hundred times but have only seen succeed a few. Farewell for now, Toby Williams…'_

"_Tom! I found help!"_ There was a pause._ "Well…sort of…"_

Toby sighed.

He had one hell of a journey ahead of him.

-1-Jareth the Goblin King-1-

Change was inevitable.

_How_ Toby changed depended entirely on the boy.

Toby was strong when he needed to be but Jareth wondered how he would fare in the defining moment. Would the young man buckle under the pressure or would he pull through like Sarah did? Toby was doomed to lose—_how_ he dealt with that defeat was another matter altogether. Toby's merry little team might change is perspective on life.

Speaking of team members…

Elliott was still in one piece and Tearsa was beginning to get a bit snippy around the edges. Jareth watched through his crystal as the elderly woman followed Elliott to the chasm, dropping the enchanted candle, form shifting, eyes narrowing...Her gray robes flowed into her new figure, creating slick black hair where there should have been flesh, teeth protruding into fangs, nails replaced by claws…until there hunched a large dark beast, a cross between a dog and lion, growling as it stalked forward.

The transition was smooth. Even the stone was taken surprise as the once-elegant elder transformed into a young and bloodthirsty beast, leaning over the edge of the chasm to stare down at Toby with her fierce glowing eyes.

Toby was already pale from the cold. His eyes widened only a bit and a small gasp escaped his lips as the Barghest reached down the three feet between them with her front paws, claws extending a bit further before they dug into Toby's forearms. He gasped a second time, about to scream, before she heaved him up and onto his knees on the ledge.

Breathing heavily, Toby stared down at the new tears on his arms, bleeding from the small gouges as she paced back and forth between Elliott and the human. It took a great deal of control on her behalf to change back. She fixed the single hair that was out of place on her silvery head, straightening her robes as she bent down to pick up the candle before she stalked back into the tunnels.

Whoever said a person should have respect for their elders obviously hadn't met Tearsa.

But Jareth would have no trouble getting rid of her.

"You see, she's developed an unhealthy _fascination_ with babes," one of his goblins murmured to the baby cradled in Jareth's arm, "_Munch-munch…_"

It Toby thought Jareth was his biggest problem he had yet to see the horrors Tearsa was capable of. She was only permitted to live in the Labyrinth so long as she didn't _eat_ anyone, but even beasts as old as Tearsa got a little hungry then and again.

Even so, the young Williams was under Jareth's protection. He would only let Toby fall as far as it would take to scare him into surrender, even if it meant letting him travel alongside Tearsa.

The old battleaxe probably knew what Jareth was playing at.

As for Elliott…well, 'talking rocks' were a rarity in the Labyrinth—and there was a good reason for that. Sooner or letter, Elliott would crumble and fall, dragging Toby down with him.

Literally.

So much for Sarah's happy ending.

A/N: I apologize if it was short. It just felt like the right spot to end—what, with dragons and all that other nonsense lurking up ahead…


	7. The sudden death of Toby Williams

A/N: Thanks for being so patient between updates. It's been a busy couple of months…

Title: The Unexpected (Chapter Six)

Fandom: Labyrinth

Spoilers: The movie

Rating: Pg-15 (-ish, since Toby has to deal with a bit of violence)

Disclaimer: I don't own the Labyrinth or anything related to it. I'm not making any money off this story

Timeline: Takes place approximately _**twenty-two**__ years_ after the movie

Summary: _Toby's always lived his life by the natural laws—laws of science and reason. The sudden disappearance of his newborn nephew, however, brings to light a whole new meaning of reality…_

"_Are you alright, Tom?"_

'No' was the most logical answer, but upon looking down at the small puncture wounds in his arms he decided that the damage could've been much worse. Tearsa had one vicious set of claws—that, and she could've simply refused to help him. The drop down to the bottom of the chasm promised to be a long one…

"I'm fine," he said at last, voice sounding fainter than he desired. "Go on ahead. I'll be right behind you."

Elliott wobbled anxiously, but rolled around eventually and chased after Tearsa as Tom staggered to his feet. Thankfully for the cold, his arms were too numb to feel the full force of his pain. Once his adrenaline rush ran out, he'd be back to normal—and wholly aware of all the damage dealt to his body thus far.

Not to mention the childhood memories he lost.

Vainly, Toby sought to remember something—_anything_ that was at least a little pleasant from his childhood…All he could think of was school, really. He tried to picture the boy he sat next to in the fifth grade, but all that came up was the small geography assignment they had to work on for the next day.

Sighing heavily, he started forward into the dark tunnel, following the faint light of Tearsa's candle.

They hadn't gone far before they stumbled across Smorf.

"_Where's the dragon?"_

"How am I supposed to know?" The small goblin piped as he scratched behind his ear. Digging into the icy surface of the floor with his rat-like foot, Smorf stared down at his morphed reflection. "I thought it was chasing you."

"What is a dragon doing all the way out here?" Toby murmured, baffled at the idea of a _steam_-breathing creature inhabiting an icy fortress.

Smorf shrugged.

"Obviously his majesty _exiled_ it from the inner regions of the kingdom," Tearsa offered, sounding somewhat spiteful, "But the man's not entirely cruel…We might be near a warmer district, somewhere close to the goblin city, otherwise the dragon wouldn't have survived out here."

Close.

_Close._

Toby was beginning to like the sound of that word. Time was of the essence and he was running dry on it…

"Will we make it in time?" He asked, hardly able to contain himself. He was beginning to feel hopeful again.

Tearsa shrugged. "Certainly—if distance is all you're taking into account. I've already told you several times before, boy. You sacrificed the safe route for the quick one. I haven't the slightest idea what dangers we'll encounter on the way."

"_Well, __**you're**__ one,"_ Elliott chirped sarcastically, _"and the dragon makes two."_

"And the chasm," Toby added.

"_Ah yes—that weird chasm…That makes three."_

Tearsa's eyes darted over to Toby, narrowing curiously as she sized him up. "I've been meaning to ask you…how ever did you make it across that monstrosity?"

Toby shrugged diffidently, "…Magic."

"Magic?"

"Yes."

"…I see."

Tearsa was no fool, but she was wise enough to leave the conversation at that. Toby wasn't going to tell her and it didn't matter anyway—what was done was done. Tearsa probably already knew the king was up to something…

"_Well…now that __**that's**__ sorted, what are we going to do about the dragon?"_

"Avoid it," Smorf advocated, "I hope…"

"_Thank you, Smorf. That was brilliant."_

"_You_ asked…"

"We'll find a route and take it," Tearsa sighed (a little heavily), "If worse comes to worse, _I_ will deal with the dragon."

"_What? A lovely old lady such as yourself? Wouldn't you rather have a cup of tea?"_

Tearsa's eyes flashed dangerous, candlelight flickering wickedly across her pale face. For a moment, she looked older than her grace usually permitted.

Toby had all of two seconds to kick Elliott aside before Tearsa whipped out the mystical switch from within the folds of her robes and slapped it against the ground. Elliott was an inch away from losing another chip, shrieking as Toby sent him tumbling into Smorf.

"Careful, _pebble_," Tearsa warned in a growl that wasn't entirely human. She lowered the switch and it vanished behind her back, "Now…shall we continue, boy?"

Toby wasn't exactly fond of being labeled a _boy_, but he had neither the strength nor the patience to argue with her. Nodding, he stepped aside to let her pass on ahead, candlelight dancing across the icy walls of the cavern as the floor shimmered beneath their feet. The air was crisp and cold—but rather than biting at the flesh of his hands and face, it stung beneath the skin and settled somewhere in his bones. It was discomforting, but at least it dulled the throb in his knee and his arms. The cuts and bruises he received from his earlier fall were almost non-existent so far as he was concerned and that's more than he could've ever ask for.

The hunger pangs, however, were growing to be more persistent.

In a weak attempt to ignore the ache in the pit of his belly, he reached down to pick Elliott up and decided to settle a few of the questions burning in the back of his mind.

"I have a book…" he started, "…and it's about the Goblin King."

"_Oh? What does it says?"_

"I don't exactly remember," he admitted quietly—even less so since he made that deal with the king. Most of his memories concerning the book were tied to Sarah at a young age, and, well… "It was about a girl who made the mistake of wishing her infant brother away. She traveled here, like I did, and made a group of her own companions to rescue the babe."

"_Ah, yes, I've heard quite a lot about that. Back then I was still a part of a mountain, but my brethren spoke fondly of how they rolled into the goblin city and battled the king's army for her sake. One of her companions was a good friend of ours—Ludo."_

"What happened? How did she win?"

"_Everyone has a different way of telling the story, but from what I was able to gather…She was a young thing, brave…but a little arrogant and not the smartest challenger to face the king. The labyrinth changed her—made her stop and think about her actions. It also taught her to appreciate what help she could get."_

"The labyrinth changed her?"

"_You're smart, Tom, but I've noticed that you don't have a lot of faith in yourself. I think the labyrinth's been working to change that."_

Toby was startled by that revelation, but he couldn't find a way to voice his thoughts. Elliott continued anyway—

"_In any case, she was betrayed by someone in the group—almost lost. She had an hour left to save her brother, but she pulled through and made it to the palace. From what I heard, the king wasn't willing to let her win. He wanted to keep both her and the babe."_

Tearsa slowed for a moment and glanced back at Toby, but there was nothing sarcastic or predatory in the look she gave him. She knew something more, but Toby was willing to bet she wasn't going to tell him…without a price. With all the luck he'd been getting lately, she probably knew _exactly_ what he had to do to win against the Goblin King.

Tearsa turned again and continued onward.

"How'd she win?"

"_Apparently, she knew the magic words."_

Magic words…Go figure. Now he knew he was _definitely_ at a loss.

"What were they?"

"_No clue."_

"Great…"

"_But Smorf should know. I mean, he was __**there**__…"_

Toby almost tripped over his own feet. Glancing over his shoulder, he stared down at Smorf in surprise. How could he forget? Smorf _worked_ for the king. Of course he would know…

Smorf shrugged, "Sure, but—"

He never had a chance to complete that sentence.

The floor tilted beneath their feet and a wave of heat washed over their bodies, stinging his eyes. Tearsa nearly dropped the candle but somehow managed to save her footing by leaning back. Toby fell on his sore leg but held his ground as Smorf slid into his back, Elliott still secure in his arms.

Ahead of them, the long pointed snout of the steam dragon greeted them just within the reach of the candle's light. Water dripped from ceiling above it and a section of the floor bent under the weight of its left forearm. It blinked, green eyes shimmering reflectively in the darkness, spouting another huff of steam from its nostrils as it dragged its low belly closer.

"_Oh hell—I don't want that thing to eat me!"_

"You're a rock," Toby muttered.

"_Dragons will eat anything that moves—and anything possessing magic. It accumulates within them."_

"Oh."

Tearsa snarled, turning sharply to toss him the candle before she hunched forward, grey robes flowing into slick dark fur. In an instant she was on the beast, claws raised as it opened its jaw, thousands of tiny fangs lining its gums as it darted forward to reach her.

Toby didn't have any time to react. He missed the candle and began sliding forward again, the floor tilting until it was nearly vertical as the dragon surged forward. They came racing up to meet the ceiling, crashing into it just behind Smorf's head—and then the floor gave away altogether. Tearsa and the dragon managed to stay afoot further into the tunnel, but Toby and the rest of his companion's dropped out of sight—

—into an underground stream.

Toby wouldn't necessarily call it a _stream_, though. It was deep, cold and running fast. He almost lost hold of Elliott and Smorf almost didn't resurface as he scrambled underwater to lose some of his armor. They were sent hurtling down the underground waterway at break-neck speed, Toby and Smorf choking on water as Elliott screamed at every deity he could think of.

"_Tom, duck!"_

Toby didn't have the time or reflexes to act. The 'stream' dipped under a low overhang—connecting squarely with the side of his head as he tried to turn his face away from it and under the water.

He remembered choking on water before descending into darkness.

And then there was nothing.

-1-Jareth the Goblin King-1-

There was a collective gasp in the throne room and the baby whimpered quietly in his arms, disturbed from its peaceful slumber by some unseen force linking it to its uncle. Jareth watched silently as the events unfolded within the sphere of his staff's crystal, and his goblin army mumbled quietly amongst themselves as they watched the sudden—_supposed_—death of their majesty's heir apparent.

This would not do.

He gazed at the dark image of Toby's limp figure as it was dragged beneath the surface of the stream, arms slackening around Elliott as he lost the little nuisance to the depths of the underground waterway.

On the upside, the rock was gone. The foolish stone almost ruined everything for Jareth—he was _this close_ to revealing everything about Sarah's past to the young Williams.

Jareth tilted his head ever so slightly to one side and blinked. Within the crystal's image, something large and dark rose up from the water's depths and reached out for Toby. He wasn't dead yet—and Jareth was hoping to keep it that way.

The small bundle lying in the cradle of his arm settled almost instantly and returned to the enchanted slumber Jareth placed it under. If everything worked out according to plan, the babe would be returned to Sarah—whether or not Toby succeeded in reaching the palace on time. It was the dawn of the third day and he still had quite a ways to go.

Jareth smiled.

He had little to worry about now.

A/N: Short, and late…I'm sorry. If there's any confusion, just give me a shout and I'll try to clear things up.

Thanks for reading.


	8. The dawning of the third day

Title: The Unexpected (Chapter Eight)

Fandom: Labyrinth

Spoilers: The movie

Rating: Pg-15 (-ish, since Toby has to deal with a bit of violence)

Disclaimer: I don't own the Labyrinth or anything related to it. I'm not making any money off this story

Timeline: Takes place approximately _**twenty-two**__ years_ after the movie

Summary: _Toby's always lived his life by the natural laws—laws of science and reason. The sudden disappearance of his newborn nephew, however, brings to light a whole new meaning of reality…_

He woke to the smell of morning dew.

He was damp, but he wasn't cold. There was a pleasant warmth about him that woke him gently from his slumber, the severe aches and pains of his journey lying forgotten, momentarily, at the back of his mind. His head was swimming but that was to be expected—after all, he _did_ just take a sudden plunge into—

Toby lifted his head, body stiffening in reflex as something moved to his left. A shadow loomed over him, blocking the dawn's glow from his eyes, and reached down to hoist him up.

Toby nearly fell.

His legs refused to support him. Leaning heavily on the large hairy fellow beside him, Toby was led somewhere cold and damp, a warm bundle shoved unceremoniously into his hands.

"_Change,"_ his warden growled loudly in his ear. Faintly he realized there were clothes in his hands and that he was supposed to swap him for the torn, wet jeans and turtleneck he wore now.

Pressing a hand against the cave wall, he ventured a little further inward for a bit more privacy and changed as quickly as his numbed body would let him. When he was finished (still dazed and not entirely convinced his wasn't dreaming), he wandered back to the mouth of the cage and, blinking against the sudden brilliance of the rising sun through the woods, collapsed against the hairy beast guarding him.

The creature led him back to the warmth (—which was a fire, he realized dimly—) and wretched his old clothes from his hands. Toby was fortunate enough to grasp Elliott's chip before the thing stole everything else he had with him.

Half blind and still exhausted, he leaned down on the blanket beneath him and closed his eyes.

Then he surrendered to the darkness again.

-1-Elliott and Smorf-1-

"_Well, isn't this wonderful. We lost him…"_

Smorf shook himself once. _Hard_. Water droplets splattered against the stony beach, the wonderful _once_-underground river running merrily along its way behind him into some farther part of the forest. Lifting his snout, Elliott balanced in his hands, he sniffed the crisp morning air.

"…It's no good. The water's washed away his human scent and there's something blocking the magic he's picked up along the way."

"_A shield?"_ Elliott pondered aloud, _"To be honest with you, I think we're in the Hunter's territory."_

Smorf crouched down instinctively, beady little eyes scanning the foliage and the trees. "…I don't think so. The Hunter guards the forest near the city—I doubt King Jareth would want Tommy to end up so close to victory."

"_I think he's more worried about that old battleaxe Tearsa than our dear friend Tom. I think we wound up here because he wants the Hunter to take care of her."_

"Point taken…but where is she?"

Smorf turned on the spot, trying to pick up any scent of her. He caught a whiff of the old world's magic but it was faint.

"_She was here?"_ Elliott inquired.

"A long time ago, but I doubt that's the last we've seen of her. She'll be looking for Tommy."

"_After all," _Elliott muttered solemnly, "_Tom will lead her to the babe…"_

Smorf shook his head again and stepped forward into the forest, leaning against the trunk of a crooked old tree to gain his strength. He'd spent the last little while searching for Elliott while simultaneously swimming for his life. His armour was gone now, lost to the depths, but at least he still had his talking companion.

"But you can find him first, right?"

Elliott hummed happily. _"That I can—provided, he hasn't lost my chip yet."_

"I don't think he has," Smorf replied, a tinge of admiration his voice, "Tommy's a smart lad. He's responsible."

"_Which is why I'm worried…"_ Elliott murmured solemnly, _"Jareth's been playing this game a while now, and it isn't often that a complete innocent like Tom gets sucked into this place. The king has a nasty habit of using a person's best attributes against them."_

Smorf frowned, attention almost lost as he caught sight of a red-winged blackbird perching on a low branch. It chirped once at him before jumping to another. "You think the king's going to take advantage of his responsible nature?"

"_Probably, but, knowing Tom, I'd say the boy will play the game so that neither of them wins."_

Smorf thought about the implications of that idea. Jareth wasn't the kind of person that enjoyed losing…

"Shall we go then?" Smorf asked, "I'm starving."

Elliott sighed—to the best of his rock-like abilities—and then hummed in agreement, _"Very well. Head east. My piece is somewhere in that vicinity…"_

"Alright…but what's the plan if we run into the Hunter?"

"_There is no plan. If we run into him, we're done for."_

"…Then I take it we should avoid him at all costs?"

"_Indubitably."_

"But what if he finds Tommy first?"

Elliott paused…

"…_I haven't the slightest idea…"_

-2-Toby Williams-2-

The second time he woke, he felt less surreal and more like a human being—a human being in great pain. Everything hurt.

But everything was tended to.

His arms were bound by a light gauze, and he could feel a similar treatment to the gash in his knee and other severe cuts along his body. Even his head was wrapped up, the bittersweet smell of ointment assaulting his nose as he took inventory of his condition. It felt as though his brain had swelled to twice its original size and was pounding the steady tempo of a migraine against the bump on his head.

Toby tried to lift his arms, but it was mixture of pure exhaustion and the weight of heavy warm blankets that prevented him from moving at once. All he could do was open his eyes—and even that wasn't an easy feat.

It was brighter outside, but the canopy of the trees shielded most of the sun. The sun itself was much higher than he remembered. It shone brilliantly behind the forest sentinels, peeking at him through the branches of the trees as best it could—a constant reminder of the precious time Toby was wasting.

He needed to move.

"Relax. There's little you can do."

Toby listened to the sound of the voice, deep and almost paternal, like a man telling his son to always accept defeat with humility.

He turned his head aside and glanced across the fire. There was a rabbit roasting on a pike and the hairy beast that manhandled him earlier had a twin—Toby didn't know what they were, but they were large. Their hair was long, red and wavy, covering their eyes, and they had long pointy snouts. Toby couldn't see any fangs, but he wasn't willing to bet that they wouldn't attempt to eat him if he tried anything funny.

They looked civilized enough sitting side by side, quietly, on a log.

The man that had spoken to him was standing behind them, rubbing the blade of his axe with an old tattered cloth. He was dressed like a hunter—black knee-high boots, brown trousers and a dark cotton shirt—except for the addition of a cape which was draped across his shoulders and his head, wrapped once around his neck to cover the lower half of his face. When the man turned his head to stare at Toby, the young William caught a glimpse of a long gash that never quite healed properly below his left eye.

The mark Tearsa made below Toby's own eye suddenly stung.

The stranger kicked something aside with his boot and hacked his axe into a cutting log. Reaching to his belt to retrieve his heavy gloves, he slipped them on over scarred hands and made his way around to the fire.

"Who are you?"

The man glanced up—and reached for the pike, taking a seat beside his two beast-like companions and began removing the meat from the stick. He started cutting it into smaller portions.

"You must be hungry," the man replied, side-stepping Toby's question completely, "Eat first. I'll answer all your questions later."

Toby hummed beneath his breath, turning on his side and letting his eyelids droop. He was still exhausted. "…No. You work for the king."

The man's eyes flickered back to Toby's face. They were a sharper shade of green than anything he had seen before, Toby realized—almost wild. There was also a certain wisdom behind them, like Tearsa's…but the strength in them differed greatly from the feral virility of the Barghest's. This stranger wasn't a beast.

"…They call me the Hunter," the man said after a particularly long moment of silence. Then he returned to his work, eyes cast downward. "The king charged me to restore you to health and to keep you from entering the goblin city before the sun sets on the fourth day of your challenge."

"I can't let you do that."

"I don't think you have much of a choice," the man laughed good-humoredly, "You're my prisoner until I hand you over to his majesty tomorrow evening."

Toby swallowed, trying to think past the pain, "I'll find a way. I think I've dealt with enough oddities in this world to know what to expect."

The man shook his head, chuckling again, "His majesty told me you were a meek one. I think, perhaps, the herbs have gotten to your head—either that or the starvation. You'll be raving soon."

"It never hurts to try."

"True," he agreed, "but you're weak and the magic of this world has been seeping into your bones. Soon you will be bound to the king's word—maybe even before tomorrow afternoon. You've already lost your age."

Toby frowned—or as best he could beneath the bandages wrapped about his forehead, "But it's only been two days."

"Three," the man corrected, "Tell me—do you shave?"

Toby wrestled to free one of his arms from the heavy quilts and raised his hand to his chin. The skin felt smooth to the touch. He wasn't the kind of man that had to shave often, but even now he would expect to find a little roughness—this was ridiculous.

"But I'm not a citizen," Toby argued, "Or, at least, not a full one…"

"Have you been here before?"

"No…" he replied, but somehow that answer didn't feel quite right, "No, but…I don't understand. How is it that Jareth possesses all this power? What gives him the right to take everything from a person?"

The Hunter shrugged, "This world was wild before his majesty came. When he tamed it, the land handed all of its powers over to him…You see, it is the Labyrinth itself that renders you powerless, transferring your will over to its own master. This place has always been dangerous but with his majesty in control the inhabitants have more power over their lives than they ever did before."

Which meant that Jareth was the pivot of control…order.

"…Then why does he abduct poor children?"

The Hunter shrugged, "The Labyrinth is a natural accorder of wishes, boy. While his majesty _is_ in charge of dealing with these requests, he can prevent the Labyrinth from taking things out of hand. There is always a chance for victory—no matter who it is that challenges the Labyrinth."

"That doesn't answer my question."

He sighed, "Company, usually. This world is full of interesting individuals but his majesty lived in your world before he came here. I think even he gets sick of this place every once in a while."

"And you…?" Toby asked quietly, "You're too human to be a natural inhabitant."

"I'm not…I was wished away."

The Hunter…was one of the lost children, a boy whisked away into a world unlike his own?

"How?" Toby asked—then, realizing how stupid he sounded, tried to clarify himself, "I wished away my nephew, but I didn't mean to. I was talking offhandedly about the world in a book."

"My cousin wished me away when we were young. Over an argument. I haven't seen the human world in centuries…"

"Centuries…in this world, or in terms of the human world?"

"Time flies in this place," he admitted solemnly, "There was a girl that came here a few years ago, but before then I ran into an older woman who told me what year it was in the other world. It feels like an eternity in this place."

Toby's heart almost stopped. He couldn't imagine losing Jonathon to this place…

"It's not so bad," the Hunter continued, "This is my world now."

"But what happened to your cousin?"

He shrugged, "Either his majesty sent him home or he wandered off somewhere in the Labyrinth. We're not trapped in one form in this place. There was a girl who lost several years ago—she became a fairy."

Oh hell…

The sands of time were slipping from between his fingers and he couldn't even walk. He needed his companions—he needed _someone_ that would show him the way to the palace.

But that it wasn't likely that that was going to happen any time soon. He needed a plan…

Toby licked his lips nervously, "…What if I surrendered? Could I make a deal with the king?"

"Certainly," the man replied—sounding both shocked and pleased, "In fact, I think that would be ideal. But please—" he scrapped a few pieces of meat onto a plate and made his way around the fire to Toby "—eat something first. From what I've been told, you haven't had much of anything since you came here."

The gesture was certainly appreciated but Toby didn't know if he would be able to swallow the food. He'd gone for so long without it and now he doubted anything would agree with his stomach.

All the same, he forced himself into an upright position and took the plate with a soft word of thanks. The Hunter nodded and made his way back to his seat, dealing out the rest of the meat for his two silent companions.

He tasted the meat and reached back beneath the covers to find Elliott's chip, hoping he hadn't lost either of his companions to the icy depths…

-3-Jareth the Goblin King-3-

Surrender…?

The more he thought about it, the more curious he became. Toby was meek—true—but he wasn't a quitter. So far he had dealt with an array of sad misfortunes and Jareth just didn't see the young man giving up as easily as this…Toby Williams had something of his sister in him.

He tilted his staff to one side and the image within the crystal shifted to a blistery scene—Sarah in her car, battling harsh wintry conditions on the road as she drove her mundane little husband and her humble old father home. She looked tense, almost as though she knew something was amiss.

Jareth wondered if it was true what they said about mothers—that they had an innate connection with their children from the moment of conception. Then again, the babe seemed to have a curious connection with his uncle as well. Maybe Sarah could sense them both…

He lowered his swaggering staff and leaned back in his thrown. The babe was currently seated on the lap of one of the older goblins, quietly observing the mix of chaos and harmony currently taking place in the throne room. There was shouting and laughing—someone was trying to make jokes, but no one was really listening. Despite common belief, the goblins weren't always this hectic...

Only when they were excited.

Tomorrow night he would be throwing a little welcoming party for Toby and his nephew—a victory celebration of sorts for the latest addition to the goblin world. Everyone was looking forward to it.

Except, perhaps, Toby Williams…


	9. The will to live

A/N: You know...for a while there, I was just a teensy bit proud of myself for getting ahead in the story. Then, lo and behold...my laptop died.

Needless to say, I've gotten a new computer. Sadly, I have to start all over again.

(Sigh...)

Title: The Unexpected (Chapter Nine)

Fandom: Labyrinth

Spoilers: The movie

Rating: Pg-15 (-ish, since Toby has to deal with a bit of violence)

Disclaimer: I don't own the Labyrinth or anything related to it. I'm not making any money off this story

Timeline: Takes place approximately _**twenty-two**__ years_ after the movie

Summary: _Toby's always lived his life by the natural laws—laws of science and reason. The sudden disappearance of his newborn nephew, however, brings to light a whole new meaning of reality…_

There must've been something mystical about the meat the Hunter gave him. Either the rabbit itself had something inherently magical about itself or the Hunter did something to it—he _almost_ felt incredible. The hunger pangs were gone and his migraine had settled. All the little scrapes and bruises along his body felt non-existent (even though, upon glancing at a few, he knew they were still there) but there was still a certain degree of weariness about him....A weakness. He didn't know how to describe it. A fever, maybe...that had just been broken. He was out of danger but the damage had already been dealt and he needed to focus all his energy on repairing it.

This must have been what growing old felt like...

He had more important things to worry about at the moment.

"Might I ask you something?"

The Hunter (—who had been previously sharpening one of his knives as his two companions ate quietly—) gave him a curious look over the material covering his face and nodded hesitantly.

"What are the rules of this game?"

He laughed, "This game? This game has no real rules."

"Then what are the _unofficial_ rules?"

"Well...'_they_' state that a balance must always be maintained in this world, regardless of who the challenger is and what the nature of their soul may be."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning..." the man elaborated, "that although each challenger is unique in which way they utilize their abilities to defeat the Labyrinth, they are all admitted an equal amount of help and guidance from the inhabitants of the Labyrinth or the power of the Labyrinth itself. If none of the inhabitants choose to help you, then the Labyrinth itself must create an alternate route that, if found and treated properly, will direct you to the palace within a suitable amount of time."

"Does this balance hold for everything...?"

There was something tickling the back of his brain...something he felt he forgot to take into account at the beginning of this journey...

The Hunter shrugged, sighed and (quite wearily) nodded, "Yes—at least, for as long as his majesty has been here. From what I've heard, this world was a cruel place before his majesty took over."

"Then...if the Labyrinth didn't _want_ someone to win, could it—in any possible way—prevent them from winning?"

"Jareth's tamed the Labyrinth—it doesn't recognize _good _people or _bad_ people, only the things that could potentially harm either itself or its inhabitants. So far as this 'game' is concerned, all it knows is that there must _always_ be someone that wins...and that there must _always_ be someone that loses."

Toby closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He was so close...he _had_ all the information he needed. It was sitting right there, all of it, laid out before him...

"...Are you alright, boy?"

"I'm...yes, I am. I'm just..."

Something rustled in the foliage behind him and he glanced over his shoulder to see what it was. The Hunter, attuned to the Labyrinth and the very soul of the forest, was on his feet, dagger drawn, before Toby could even realize was happening.

A beast, large like a bear, wet and black, leapt free from the cover of the bushes and flew straight over Toby's head toward his captor.

It was Tearsa.

The Hunter side-stepped the attack with ease, reaching out with his dagger to knick the Barghest on the arm. Toby had only seen the elderly woman in her bestial form once before and that was in the depths of the cavern, adrenaline and fear pumping through his veins as he struggled not to fall into the chasm. At that time he had been almost too weary to truly appreciate the horrendous nature of the woman's transformation.

She was sleek, cool, crouched down low like a panther, fangs bared at the man as they circled one another. Dimly glowing eyes focused solely on her prey. Her ears were pressed back against her neck and the fur along her spine stood up on end...

She was every bit the feral dog the old folk of Toby's world spoke of in their fables.

Tearsa, however, was nothing of a myth.

The beast reached for the Hunter once more with her claws, making a large sweeping motion that almost caught him along the midriff. It was then that his two large companions seemed to break free from their silent enchantment. Together, still seated, they opened their mouths and released a howl that was unnaturally low.

Tearsa howled in return but her cry sounded more like a reaction to pain than a response to a challenge. It wasn't horribly loud but Toby could almost feel it...feel that there was more than one frequency in their howl, one that was far from his hearing range but still notable enough to be felt in the pit of his stomach.

It made him feel nauseous.

Tearsa cried out again—but continued making swipes at the Hunter. They were less precise and a little clumsy but the Hunter had enough to deal with already dodging the sheer force behind each swing. Tearsa clubbed the trunk of a tree at one point, splinters of the bark spraying everywhere.

Weakly, Toby fought his way up onto his feet and stumbled toward the fire. Tearsa finally caught the Hunter with her paw and knocked him sideways almost seven feet.

"Tearsa! _Stop_!"

The Barghest turned on him, eyes piercing the very core of his soul. She froze him with her gaze, a perverted mix of sorry and tranquility spreading across his chest coolly in a slow, soothing sensation...

He felt as though he was staring at death itself.

His death.

He reached out blindly and felt his hand curl around the end of the roasting pike. Carefully, he lowered one end into the fire.

...The goodness was gone. All his innocence, he felt, had been abandoned in her gaze. It was as though the happiness of the world had disappeared, laughter and delight fleeing with it...Death _was_ her presence. It radiated off her, sapped the very warmth from the air around her...

He'd never felt so sick in his entire life.

He'd never felt as peaceful either.

It was in this state that he _damned_ the consequences of his actions as he casually tossed the pike at her head.

As wet as she was, her fur didn't catch fire, but she yowled all the same and jumped back from him with alarming speed. The Hunter, now that he had had a chance to collect himself, came up beside her and gave a swift (heavy) kick to her waist.

Toby lost track of the battle at that point. There was a pang in his chest where he felt his heart should be and the cold _cold_ sensation of death and disparity intensified. It was seeping into the very foundation of his being. Black and white specks of nothingness danced across his vision and his skin felt numb. He could still hear everything but nothing made much sense to him at all.

Dazed, he searched himself for something warm...anything...a memory...words of comfort...

And he found nothing.

-1-Elliott and Smorf-1-

Faintly glowing specks of lights glided on the breeze. One drifted quietly past Smorf's head before he looked up and realized there were more of them.

Earlier on, Elliott said they were getting closer to Tom.

The incessant howling in the distance was also a good clue.

"...What are these?"

Elliott was quiet for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was low and solemn.

"_They don't have a name—the only appear when something bad has happened, something that tilted the balance...The Labyrinth didn't expect it and now it's trying to find a way to rectify it."_

"What do you mean?"

"_I __**mean**__, Tom's losing...and he's losing pretty badly..."_

"How does the Labyrinth plan on helping?"

"_Just look ahead,"_ Elliott replied, _"It's leading us to the problem."_

Smorf shook his head and followed the trail of small glittering lights hurriedly. The howling in the distance was horrifying. It made him nauseous...made it hard for him to tell which way he was supposed to be going...

"_Just keep following the lights!"_ Elliott barked when he nearly stumbled on an exposed tree root, _"Don't stop!"_

"I'm _trying_," Smorf growled, and he soldiered on until they broke free into a clearing. There was another sound—like that of a wild beast being mauled—not too far off in the woods. Two creatures sat side by side on a log by a fire and, upon seeing Smorf, closed their mouths instantly. The horrid sound stopped immediately.

They didn't move an inch after that.

"_...Tom?"_ Elliott asked quietly. Smorf scurried over to the fallen boy, taking Elliott out from under his arm and resting him on the ground next to their companion.

He was pale, deathly pale, all the colour and life drained completely from his face. He looked almost perfect, like porcelain, and he didn't stir when either Smorf or Elliott nudged his body.

"He's _dead_!" Smorf exclaimed wildly. He couldn't believe it.

"_No—not yet. This isn't supposed to happen!"_

"But it is."

"_You don't understand—this is Tearsa's doing."_

"What did she do?"

"_She stared at him...but he's not supposed to __**die**__. Only people that have nothing left to live for actually __**die—WAKE UP**__!"_

Elliott rolled particularly hard into Toby's left shoulder but the boy couldn't be roused.

"_Come on, Tom! Isn't there __**something**__ you can think of?! ANYTHING! What about your childhood? What about your nephew?"_

Smorf felt as though there was a snake slithering around in the pit of his stomach, something cold and slimy...Tearsa had really gone too far.

Jareth wasn't likely going to forgive her now.

-2-Jareh the Goblin King-2-

The last time something as dire as this occurred, the Labyrinth was challenged by a Knight of Templar. Jareth wasn't a fan of death. It was one of the reasons why he preferred to put a spin on time, why he preferred to hold back old age for his many subjects.

The goblins were silent. They crowded around him—all except for one, the older goblin cradling the babe, and he was busy trying to hush the child as it sniffled and began to cry. Jareth waved his hand for the goblins to give him room and he stood, walking toward the center of the room with his staff in one hand and a crystal in another.

He knew why Toby was losing the fight. He'd been beaten down several times throughout his journey and without anything pleasant to hold onto, he was losing his grasp on life.

After all, Jareth possessed most of what had been keeping Toby going to begin with. Even with his nephew's freedom in jeopardy, Toby had very little left to give him the will to live.

Why his mother had been so bitter in raising the boy, Jareth may never know.

"Fair is fair, I suppose..."

With one last glance at the crystal in his hand, he dropped it.

And watched it shatter.

-3-Toby Williams-3-

In the fourth grade, he broke his collar bone and fractured his arm in two places. Toby wasn't exactly a daring boy but the kite he tried to get out of the tree was a gift from Sarah and she was away at university. Toby missed her dearly. Lord, did he ever miss her. His father was a kind man but he was whisked away quite often for business and his mother would much rather kill a cat than see her son turn to into a daydreamer like his sister.

Boy was she mad when she got that call from the hospital.

Toby missed piano practices for about a month and a half but that was when he began listening to his father's jazz music. When Sarah came home for Thanksgiving that year, she helped him make a new kite (despite his mother's complaints) and they talked about a variety of plot ideas for a book. Sarah was hell-bent on writing one and Toby wanted to help her—when she graduated, she actually got around to publishing it. It was the first of many to come.

Despite his newfound fear of heights, the fall had done him a great deal good. Toby knew that a person had to take the good with the bad and that sometimes it would cost him hell to get what he wanted.

He wanted to get Jonathon back.

He heard Elliott's voice before any of his other senses returned. The rock was in a panic but he shut up immediately after Toby murmured his nephew's name.

He was going to get the kid back.

Consequences be damned.


	10. The Grudge

Title: The Unexpected (Chapter Ten)

Fandom: Labyrinth

Spoilers: The movie

Rating: Pg-15 (-ish, since Toby has to deal with a bit of violence)

Disclaimer: I don't own the Labyrinth or anything related to it. I'm not making any money off this story

Timeline: Takes place approximately _**twenty-two**__ years_ after the movie

Summary: _Toby's always lived his life by the natural laws—laws of science and reason. The sudden disappearance of his newborn nephew, however, brings to light a whole new meaning of reality…_

Sarah's fingers drummed against the steering wheel as she waited for the light to turn green. She'd never been a patient woman. Never...but she hid her edginess considerably well since her childhood days. Admittedly, she was something of an imp when she was younger.

Looking to her right, she glanced at the weary figure of her husband as he leaned his head against the passenger-side window, eyes drooping as he succumbed to a kip. Sporting a shiny new cast on his left leg, he shifted in his seat before relaxing his shoulders completely.

Samuel liked to think he was an 'average Joe', sporting plain brown hair and plain brown eyes. He was handsome; quiet...he talked very little.

Which was probably why they made such a compatible duo. Samuel wasn't in the habit of letting people push him around but he always took on the role of the listener in any conversation. He could sit for hours, watching as she paced back and forth across the room, raving mad, and simple absorb everything she told him. It was miraculous.

Sarah thought he was brilliant.

She wanted to slug the drunken bloke responsible for his damn injury.

The light flashed green and Sarah hit the gas—correcting her speed almost immediately as her father stirred in the back seat. Something was off...it was ticking in the back of her head. Repeatedly. Gaining momentum...

Reflexively, she scratched behind her left ear and scrunched her shoulders up—releasing the tension after a moment in a vain attempt to relax.

Her eyes darted to the clock on the dashboard: 9:05. They were at least twenty minutes away from home—hopefully the kids hadn't caused Toby too much trouble. She called him an hour earlier and Kimberly was in one of her moods...Sarah knew how long those could last.

Toby would have his hands full.

Toby...

"I don't understand it."

Samuel shifted in his seat, half-listening, "...Nuh?"

"Do you believe in a woman's intuition?"

"Sometimes...why do you ask?"

"It's Toby."

"...You're not making any sense."

"I know. I don't understand it either."

Samuel sighed out loud, though not intentionally, "...What does it feel like?"

"Impending doom."

"That bad, huh?"

"No...It's just, when Toby—" She almost said _'when Toby was kidnapped'_ but somehow managed to stop herself in time "—fell out of that tree, I knew something was wrong. I've always been able to do that—with Toby, that is. Kimberly escapes me entirely sometimes..."

"What about Toby?"

"Everything—I knew he was going to give up playing the piano before he did. I knew he wanted to do something in the Arts even though he applied for an Honours Specialization in Immunology."

"But Toby always enjoyed the sciences. He loves his job."

"But he's so _quiet_ in his job. He works with some wonderful people—people that don't know a damn thing about him! He needs to open up...he needs a _hobby_..."

"...And why do you think you're worried about Toby right _now_?"

"I..."

The book.

She couldn't say what drew her mind to that topic, but there it was...She'd always been worried something bad would happen with that book. That didn't stop her from reading it to Toby, though. After all, it was just a book—Jareth's decision to mess with her affairs was just a bit of bad luck on her part. He was safe. She challenged Jareth and beat him at his own game—Toby wasn't going anywhere.

...Then why did it feel as though he was slipping through her fingers?

"...Sarah?"

"I left him with the children. That's all."

"You're not making any sense."

"That's the medicine, dear."

Samuel made a small huffing noise and relaxed again.

Her father snored gently behind her.

Twenty-minutes...she could last that long...

Couldn't she?

-1-Toby Williams-1-

"...Who's sitting on my chest?"

"_Tom! Thank God—we thought you were a goner! You were dead and cold and—"_

Toby opened his eyes just in time to catch Smorf as he knelt down and swept Elliott off his chest. The rock wobbled excitedly in the goblin's arm, rambling on about flickering lights and a great black dog as Toby blinked away the dust in his eyes, pushing himself into a sitting position and taking a deep, much-needed breath.

It was dark.

Blue bled to azure as the oncoming dusk descended behind the treetops, the dawning of the night hot on its heels as the third day drew to an end.

Toby felt a pang of disappointment in his chest. As close as he was to the goblin city, he'd spent most of his adventure fast asleep. Injuries aside, he was more than capable of getting to the goblin city within his allotted time limit.

His eyes lingered on the sky a moment longer, gaze quickly averting to a small sphere of light that drifted languidly past his face. There were more, he realized, gliding through the forest.

"What's up with all the lights?"

"_...Weren't you listening to me?"_

Smorf gave the talking rock a gentle shake and clicked his teeth together in disappointment. "Go easy on him. He just woke up."

"_Well then...the lights are just pockets of unused energy—energy that's been lent to you by the Labyrinth."_

Toby almost laughed, "Why would it do a thing like that? I thought it was trying to stop me."

"_It is, to a degree...Something's tipped the balance __**severely**__ against you and now it's trying to make it up to you."_

"You mean because of the whole life-and-death experience with Tearsa?"

"_Yeah, maybe...but they should've disappeared by now. Personally, I don't know how you're supposed to use them. They usually vanish as soon as the equilibrium`s been restored."_

"What do you think caused the imbalance?"

"_Something that's been gaining momentum...since the beginning of this challenge, I think..."_ Elliott paused thoughtfully, _"...This is odd—of course. In most cases, the Labyrinth sends a being to help the challenger if the odds are pitted against them, a spirit thingy that changes shape to suit the challenger's need."_

Toby shivered internally and thought of his brief brush with death, "What if that someone was Tearsa? Her sudden attack could've put everything further out of whack."

"_But the question remains—__**what**__, per se, was put out of whack?"_

"I've been thinking about that..." Toby brushed his hands together, dispelling the bit of dirt on them, and stretched his arms out far in front of him. He was feeling good considering his near-death experience. "...I think I made a mistake, something that I can't correct..."

Smorf's ears perked up in an odd way and he tilted his head to one side curiously, "Like what?"

"I don't know how to describe. It's like...going to work and having a wonderful day, but with the feeling of impending doom hanging over your head. It's like..."

"...Like?"

Toby shrugged. "There was this one time I went to my car at the end of my shift and...I didn't realize at first, but I accidentally locked my keys inside it earlier that morning. I knew something was wrong—it just took me the whole day to figure it out."

"_Cool—uber-sensitive intuition!"_

"No, but do you understand what I'm talking about?"

"_I don't have pockets and I'm pretty sure I don't have keys, but I get the just of it."_

"Good, because unlike a misplaced car key I don't know if my mistake is reversible. What am I supposed to do if it isn't?"

"_Then the Labyrinth would have to leave a loop hole for you as soon as the challenge is over, something that could lead you home."_

"Immediately?"

"_Heck no—it could take anywhere from a month to a millennium. The Labyrinth doesn't exactly have a thing for time, remember?"_

"Right...but it makes sense, doesn't it? The king wouldn't have brought me so close to the city if he thought I was going to win."

"_Could've been a gamble—the Hunter doesn't usually hang out this close to the castle. I think he was sent to bait Tearsa."_

"But the king's been playing this game for ages. When was the last time he was beaten?"

"_Wow...a couple of decades ago, I think. This girl beat him, hands down."_

Smorf puffed his chest out and lifted his nose a little arrogantly, visibly insulted by Elliott's last remark, "That's only 'cause he went _easy_ on her."

"_If you ask me, I'd said he had a __**thing**__ for her."_

"She was—!"

"Can we discuss this young lady some other time?" Toby interrupted quietly, "I'm sure it's a fascinating story, but I'd like to make an attempt at infiltrating the castle, if you don't mind?"

Smorf scratched behind one ear in agitation and huffed a small _'yes'_. Elliott muttered something about goblins and a bog but didn't press the matter any further.

Toby took a moment to gather his strength and then, with a little bit of effort, pulled himself up off the ground. Wobbling precariously to one side, he paused to gain his balance before grinning down at his companions and reaching out to take the talking rock from Smorf.

"Alright, Elliott—which way to the goblin castle?"

"_To your right. We should see it as soon as we hit the edge of the forest."_

Toby hoisted the rock under his arm and trekked through the bushes, smacking branches away until he came to a small dirt path. It took Smorf a moment to catch up behind him, bits of twigs and leaves sticking to his fur, but with a quick shake and a small sneeze he was ready to go again.

Elliott instructed him to follow the path and he did just that—glancing up at the sky as the last of colour drained from its canvas. The night's veil had been drawn across the heavens, a few stars twinkling above his head in place of the moon. It was 'New' tonight. They'd have to work without it.

He was really starting to miss the worm's enchanted candle.

Despite the darkness, they marched onwards, Smorf eventually taking the lead since his eyes were better adjusted to the lack of illumination. Elliott corrected him every once in a while if he felt they were drifting off track but the overall journey was uneventful in comparison to some of the other ordeals they'd been forced to endure so far. The trek was a bit of a peaceful one.

Then the lights returned.

"_As nice as this looks, it never means anything good."_

Toby shook his head slowly and suppressed a sigh, "Now what? Are we about to be attacked?"

Smorf sniffed the air and laughed, "No—I smell more than just goblins."

_More_ than just goblins?

Toby picked up his pace as Smorf darted toward the end of the path. Something was glowing up ahead, either a congregation of all the glowing spheres or something else entirely.

It turned out to be a little of both.

What he saw reminded him of the chasm.

A horse (at least, it _looked_ like a horse from where he was standing) was cantering across a thin beam of light, one which was rapidly flickering in and out of sight. The creature had no trouble covering the vast distance between them and the city wall but Toby was hesitant to try crossing it on his own. Things were never quite as simple they appeared to be in this world.

They were so close...

Toby shuffled to the very end of the path where the trees parted, branches bowing forward, and stopped beside Smorf. Slowly, he leaned his head forward and stared down into the all-too familiar abyss...

"_Oh, come on! Don't tell me you're still afraid of heights?!"_

Smorf's ears perked up at the revelation and glanced up at Tom before averting his eyes to the problem at hand. "No worries, Thomas. We'll find a way across."

Toby shifted his weight from one foot to the other anxiously, "And how do you suppose we accomplish that? The last time I checked, none of us could fly."

"_Oh, ye of little faith—we'll use magic, of course. Getting into the castle, on the other hand, will be another matter all together..."_

"Easier said than done."

"_Of course—hey, ninny-ninny! Could you lend us a hand?"_

At first, Toby couldn't decide who it was Elliott was yelling at. And then he saw the horse. It stood, frozen, on the other end of the chasm and looked at their small party in clear bemusement. A few of the glowing lights drifted past its head and, after a moment of consideration, decided to follow those instead.

"_Oh—come on! We're not a heavy bunch!"_

The creature stopped and contemplated it for a moment...its head turned to take in the sea of glittering lights above its head and then, as though they had told it something interesting, began its journey back over the chasm.

The beam of light returned, flashing briefly before disappearing every time a hoof connected with the seemingly invisible bridge.

"Elliott...how is it doing that?"

"_It's a horse-fly, silly. What else does it have to do all day but master the art of walking across chasms?"_

Toby said nothing.

There really wasn't anything he _could_ say...

The creature took its time getting to their side—which, strange as it may seem, Toby was glad for. He was afraid of heights (which was already a given) and he hadn't the slightest idea how a person would go about riding a horse bareback. He hadn't even tried it with a saddle before.

He truly was hopeless.

The 'horse-fly' slowed as it neared the edge of the abyss, carefully climbing a step of light to bring it level with the cliff. Toby took a moment to admire the gentle gleam of silver on its back, the fine sheen to its coat, and then carefully handed Elliott over to Smorf. Grabbing the goblin around the waist, he lifted him onto the creatures back.

It shook its head once, mane flipping from one side of its neck to the other, and turned to stare at Toby through one eye. A sphere drifted between them and Toby saw something there, something that was lost almost immediately.

"...Do you work for the king?"

It shook its head and turned its gaze on the goblin city.

"_What's up, Tom?"_

Nothing...it was nothing...

"Never mind," he murmured as he reached up—somehow managing to heft himself onto the creature's back without falling. Swinging one leg over onto the other side, he shifted up close behind Smorf and took at the creature's hair into a loose grip with both hands. "Alright. I'm ready."

The creature took that as its cue to leave and began a slow trek to the other side. Toby tried to avoid the urge to look _'down'_ but faltered at the midpoint and spared a glance at the chasm's soul.

It was surprisingly sad.

A chill rose up from the darkness, wind tickling face as it ghosted up past him. The silence was almost absolute and he wondered, vaguely, if there truly was a bottom to that gapping abyss.

"_You know what Nietzsche said, Tom—'when you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes into you'...or something like that."_

Toby started, almost losing his grip on the horse-fly's mane. He didn't realize Elliott could see him with Smorf between them...Then again, Elliott didn't exactly have eyes...

"What's it like, Tommy?"

"What's 'what' like?"

"_You know...being __**dead**__?"_

Toby was about to say '_horrible_' but the actual feeling of being _dead_ wasn't all the bad. _'Dying'_ was certainly dreadful, and though he couldn't remember what had happened after he lost his grip on reality, the last moment before the end had been a relatively peaceful one.

He nodded, more to himself than anyone else, and took one last glance at the abyss before focusing on the city wall, "Peaceful, I suppose...I doubt I was in the right frame of mind to be taking mental notes."

"Are you still afraid to die?"

Toby wasn't sure what he was afraid of. The fear was still there—but that was natural, wasn't it?

"I think...I've still got a lot left to live for. What about you?"

Smorf shrugged, laughing a little at the thought of it, "It's a bit difficult to die when you're living here. I don't _want_ to die but there's a time and a place for everything...I'll go when I'm supposed to go."

"_I think Smorf said it the best. I don't __**want**__ to die but I'm not afraid to go—I can't feel anything, really, so pain doesn't exactly exist for me, and I believe in life eternal. Our companions carry on beside us, even when they're gone."_

Toby wondered if that's what his friends thought when Tearsa nearly ended it for him.

It was reassuring, in a sense, to know that someone would understand how and why you died when you were trapped in a place as strange and foreign as this...to know that you wouldn't be forgotten...

The horse-fly's figure shifted beneath him and Toby's grip tightened on the mane as the creature angled up toward the oncoming bank. A minute later and they were settled safely on a small cliff between the city wall and the abyss.

"Thank you," Toby murmured as he stroked the creature's face. The horse-fly made a small humming noise beneath its breath, something Toby had never heard the likes of before, and pressed up against his hand encouragingly.

"_So, Tom—what's the next plan of action?"_

He patted the long face one last time and Toby watched as the horse-fly retreated slowly around the nearest bend. He wasn't sure if it continued on its merry way or disappeared altogether with many of the glistening lights. Several of them had faded by now.

It was probably a small favour from the Labyrinth.

"We'll walk along the wall, I suppose, until we find a way through. If worse comes to worse, we'll scale it."

Elliott piped cheerfully from his place in Smorf's arms and they began their newest trek around the goblin city. The wall, tall and white and perfect, towered over them, a deity made to withstand adversary and weather alike. There would be hell to pay if anyone made an attempt to climb it.

Surprisingly enough, he wasn't afraid to try.

It might even be fun.

-2-Jareth the Goblin King-2-

"The _'error of my ways'..._" Jareth murmured, tasting the words as though they were a dull thing, something no one should pay much attention to, "I believe that's the way you phrased it, oh wise one..."

The elderly goblin hummed deep in his throat, eyes fixed outside the tower window at the bustling streets below. The city was alive again. Creatures from near and far had gathered for the celebration, beasts that no one had ever seen before—had ever _dreamed of_ before. For once, the chaos was _outside_ the castle and not crammed in Jareth's throne room.

The cocky bird perched on his head looked down at its master contemplatively before trying to pretend it was nothing more than a hat again. It was fooling no one but sometimes it wanted nothing more than to be left out of the elder's business.

"You don't approve of my methods?"

The goblin shook its head, "This is _your_ kingdom, your majesty. I'm too old to play this game anymore."

"But it's very much _not_ a game, sir. The competitors are playing for keeps this time."

"Weren't you playing for keeps the last time as well?"

"Sarah had a trump card," Jareth replied lazily, crossing his legs as he leaned back languorously in his throne. "I had no such allowance. The Labyrinth didn't think me deserving of one."

"She was a girl."

"She wanted him _gone_..." he paused, eyes averting to the window before darting back to the elderly being. Mystic eyes focused on the old fellow, attempting to read his mind...it was no use, really, but he liked to think he could try. He could read just about everyone else in the kingdom. "...and now he's returned...If that isn't fate I don't know what to call it."

"Chance, perhaps."

"No such thing exists in this place."

"Then what would you have me call it?"

"..._Equilibrium,_" Jareth tasted this word; fortunately, it had a little flavour. "Distorted as it may appear, the Labyrinth is doing all that it can to maintain its balance."

"You still haven't told me how it shifted in the first place."

"Sarah..." he said. Quietly. Her name hadn't been mentioned in a long time...not since Toby returned to the kingdom. It was almost as though she only left yesterday...

"You went easy on her?"

"I faltered."

"You loved her."

"I wanted to be cruel."

"The Labyrinth serves only you, your majesty. It saw her victory as..._unjust_?"

"There is no justice in this universe."

"She broke your heart. That's never happened before."

Jareth waved his hand, almost as though dismissing the matter altogether. It was too painful to deal with at the moment. He should be celebrating, not suffering.

"Your majesty, the Labyrinth is like a child..."

"Precisely," Jareth sighed, "A child that aims to please...It opened a portal for the goblins when Toby found the book."

The elder paused, "...Did he say the words?"

"No...The goblin that joined his party sent his superior office a message—Toby made a _statement_. A _request_. The Labyrinth decided that that was all it needed to act..."

"But the lad's _winning_."

"He can't win."

"Why not?"

"The Labyrinth is not permitted to start the challenge until I sayit can. This time, it twisted the rules," Jareth's eyes flashed dangerously, though not at his guest. In a moment, the anger vanished, a brief lapse of control on his part. "But that matters little to me now...Toby will figure the problem out for himself. He's an intellect, after all."

"And then he'll find a way to escape."

"...Unless I act."

The old goblin opened his mouth to speak but Jareth raised his hand for silence.

"Say what you like. The boy is mine. What's fair is fair."

"I still don't understand."

"You will know soon enough."

"And what about Sarah? Doesn't she deserve to know what's happening?"

"I have no doubt Hoggle is waiting for her to call upon him. I think it's no secret that she would much rather hear the story from him than me."

The goblin shook his head and glanced up at his companion. The bird twitched, head tilting to the side as it waited for a sign from its master. It wasn't often that the old man argued with anyone other than it.

The elder paused, thought about pressing the matter further, and eventually gave up. Sighing aloud, he ambled to the door, old and crimpled, to leave the Goblin King in his peace.

The silence remained to keep him company.

A/N: The confrontation between Jareth and Toby is fast approaching. Though it signals the end of the challenge, it's not quite the end of the story. Nobody's won yet ;)


	11. And then there were two

A/N: I just wanted to thank you for all your wonderful comments and critiques. I hope you continue to enjoy reading the story as much as I do writing it.

Title: The Unexpected (Chapter Eleven)

Fandom: Labyrinth

Spoilers: The movie

Rating: Pg-15 (-ish, since Toby has to deal with a bit of violence)

Disclaimer: I don't own the Labyrinth of anything related to it. I'm not making any money off this story.

Timeline: Takes place approximately _**twenty-two**_ _years_ from where the movie left off.

Summary: _Toby's always lived his life by the natural laws—laws of science and reason. The sudden disappearance of his newborn nephew, however, brings to light a whole new meaning of reality..._

"_This sucks."_

"Shh," Toby hushed, "It'll work."

"_Does anyone else remember the dragon or was I hallucinating?"_

Smorf smiled in an odd way, pointed little teeth bared sarcastically. "Of course."

"_Ha. A troll with a sense of humour."_

"Goblin," he corrected.

"_Toe-mah-to, toe-may-to—what's the difference?"_

"You little—"

Toby stole the rock from Smorf before either of the two could do something they would regret. The goblin huffed angrily behind him but he left Toby to his own devices as the human knelt before the fissure.

It would be a tight fit but he wasn't a claustrophobic.

He was an acrophobic.

Toby squinted at the speck of light at the far end. When they first made it across the chasm he thought the fortress's wall would be flawless—until his party rounded a corner and found the crevice. It was about a foot taller than Toby. The real issue here was the width...and the length. He'd have to wriggle ten feet or so to get to the other side, Smorf in tow and Elliott...

"I can't carry you tucked under my arm. I might drop you," Toby muttered, "Can you roll through?"

"_I'm more than likely to get stuck."_

"Then I'll have to tie you up."

"_...What's the supposed to mean?"_

"Smorf, do you have anything I can use?"

The goblin nodded, reaching around his waist to untie a cloth he'd been using as a make-shift belt for the scabbard of his lost spear. It wasn't long but it surrounded most of Elliott as Toby wrapped it once around the stone. Tying the ends together loosely, he slipped his left arm through the loop and pulled the strap of the crude bag up onto his shoulder.

"You need to lose weight, Elliott," he joked.

"_I did. It's not my fault you keep every piece you find."_

Toby remembered the quarter-sized chip in his pocket and instinctively reached inside to see if it was still there. It was. He'd have to remove it once he changed clothes—the ones that smelt heavily of the ointment the Hunter and his companions had salved over his wounds. The gauze was beginning to loosen anyway and the scent was beginning to give him a headache...

"Ready, team?"

"Aye," Smorf piped.

"_Onward!"_

Toby turned the right side of his body into the crevice and, looking toward the light at the end, slipped gently inside. The temporary tunnel was tight across his chest at first, letting up a few inches further in when it became a little snug around his hips. A minute later Smorf squeezed in behind him.

"...Tommy, I think I'm going to get stuck."

Elliott bumped against Toby's ribs and laughed, _"Sounds like I'm not the only one that needs to lose a little weight."_

"You stu—"

"Can we argue on the other side?" Toby pleaded, reaching blindly to his right until he felt Smorf's clawed hand close around his own. "If you get stuck, just tell me and I'll tug you out."

"...Thanks."

"No problem," he replied, squirming through a particularly narrow space. His ribs protested against the blatant abuse and he thought Elliott might've gotten jammed at one point until the rock wriggled in the bag and twisted his way through. Halfway there, they stopped for a short break. There was kink in his neck and a few of his previous cuts were reopening, but he was just so damn close to Jonathan...

He was going to make it. It didn't matter what he had to go through now—it was well worth the time he saved in getting here.

"_So...I take it you're not afraid of closed spaces?"_

"Nah. I was always kind of partial to hide-and-seek as a child."

Smorf squeaked behind him suddenly and Toby tugged his hand hard—the goblin popped free of his predicament and laughed nervously. "Please, tell me we're almost there."

"Three feet, I promise. Actually...I think..." He stretched his right arm forward, twisting his body in place until his fingers brushed the mouth of the crevice. Taking another awkward step forward, he bent his fingers around the stone and tugged himself a few inches closer to the end, "...give me a second and I'll—"

He gasped as a cold, bony hand shot out into his narrow field of vision and curled around his wrist.

Before he could shout a warning to Smorf, the hand pulled him viciously through the crevice and out into the open. He released the small goblin's hand just in time, saving him the pain of being dragged across the jagged rocks.

Falling to his knees (the injured one throbbing painfully upon impact) he scrambled to his feet and backed up against the wall next to the crevice. Tearsa stood there, as cold and beautiful as marble, though her face was cut up around her left cheek and her clothes were torn. Murderous intent shone in her eyes, right hand reaching into the folds of her gray robes to produce her switch.

"Human blood, as you can imagine, is a rarity in this world."

Toby opened his mouth to protest (or yell, rather) but she flicked the switch forward, lunging like an expect fencer, and its sharpened end pierced the strap of Elliott's make-shift bag, puncturing the muscle above his right breast.

"An infant's is pure enough to be considered a delicacy," she continued, applying pressure. Toby bit back a cry and grabbed the switch with both hands, trying to prevent its cruel advance toward his heart, "but I think yours will do just fine. You're remarkably virtuous for a man your age."

"_Witch_!" Smorf screamed from where he was wedged in the crevice, "_Traitor_! His majesty pardoned you from your past indulgences in the human world and permitted you to settle in these lands. He should've tossed you to the wolves! _How dare you_—"

"_Quiet_!" the Barghest shrieked, pulling her provisional sword free of Toby's flesh as she fixed her gaze on the darkness of the fissure. "_I_ am the master of my being! Your pretentious barriers mean _nothing_ to me."

"He'll seal you away _forever_!" Smorf spat heatedly.

"I'll _silence_ you forever," the woman growled, taking a step closer to the fissure and pulling back her arm in preparation of stabbing the trapped goblin. "I'll skewer you like the rat you are—"

"_Tom!"_ Elliott hollered as Toby collapsed against the wall. Tearsa's eyes flashed dangerously, hell-bent on killing the goblin, as Toby kicked out with his uninjured leg. He caught her in the front of her knee, listening to an unexpected _'pop!_' as it gave out beneath her.

Not having much time to think, he grabbed the end of her switch and yanked it free of her grip as she struggled back to her feet. They were in an empty alleyway, a tall, crooked, three-storey house obscuring his view of the street. It was eerily quiet, almost as though Tearsa had scared away everyone on the block. Toby doubted anyone would make it to them in time even if he managed to yell loud enough.

Searching frantically for an escape route, he darted toward the mouth of the alleyway.

Tearsa was hot on his heels.

The woman had already changed form, slamming into the back of his legs hard enough to knock Elliott's bag off his shoulder and the switch out of his hand. He hit the ground with a solid _thud_, having the wind knocked out of him as he struggled to reach for the weapon, and released a strangled cry of pain as her claws dug into his calves.

He stretched his fingers as far as he could manage to make a grab for the switch, brushing against it briefly before Tearsa viciously tugged him back, taunting him.

"_Elliott, save him_!" Smorf hollered from his current trap.

"_Hit her!"_ Elliott ordered, wriggling in the make-shift bag, _"Come on, Tom—throw me!"_

"Elli—"

"_NOW!"_

His fingers caught hold of the bag and he closed his fist around the cloth, twisting awkwardly onto his back as he swung Elliott at Tearsa's face. The beast moved as though to protect herself but Toby had the advantage of close-quarters and Elliott connected solidly with her head. Toby winced at the sickening crack and watched as Elliott tumbled free of the cloth beside him.

Bloodied, Tearsa fixed her cold eyes on the stone as she lashed out with a violent swipe; something Toby had seen her use before on the Hunter. Elliott was sent flying into the crooked house.

And shattered into pieces.

Horrified, Toby's own eyes stayed focused on his demolished companion as Tearsa turned her attention on him. Placing one paw over his sternum, she leaned forward and pressed down. Hard.

Something else hit her in the face.

A flash of light burst in the small space between them and Tearsa jumped back with howl of rage. She battered at the sparks in her face and continued to back away.

It was then that Toby realized pieces of her slick black body were collapsing to the ground, almost as though she was made of sand. Said sand glided across the earth and around Toby.

He turned his head and watched as it collected itself in a small vial, one which had been tipped over only a few feet away. The Hunter stood beside it, still covered entirely save for his eyes, as he watched Tearsa dissolve with a minatory flare.

He looked satisfied when he bent down to cork the vial, putting an end to Tearsa's savage rampage.

"_Tommy_!"

Toby sat up. Slowly. He stared at Smorf as the goblin darted down the alley toward him, not quite knowing what to say or do about Elliott.

The goblin gave Toby a quick one-over before glancing over at what remained of the talking stone...

"Elliott..." Toby murmured as he struggled to his feet. The Hunter reached out to stop him but he brushed the man's hand away as he rushed to his fallen companion. Kneeling, he picked up an egg-sized chunk of the once-babbling rock. "Say something..."

"...Tommy, are you alright?"

His leg hurt something awful and Tearsa's first stab was beginning to throb; he was bleeding but not enough to cause need for alarm. Anything he had to complain about couldn't even _begin_ to compare with Elliott's unexpected sacrifice...

"He _can't_ be dead...he's a _rock_."

"He's the first of his kind that I've ever heard talk," the Hunter replied quietly behind him, "Once upon a time, he probably came from a mountain. This is just another transition for him."

"Maybe it's a start-over," Smorf offered hopefully, although he himself didn't sound too convinced, "We'll hold on to him...until he comes to his senses..."

Toby nodded numbly as he helped Smorf collect what he could recognize of Elliot's pieces. The goblin gathered them in his old cloth and tied it up when they were done.

Glancing over his shoulder at the vial in the Hunter's hand, Toby asked. "What did you do to her?"

"I sealed her away," he explained, "by order of the king. In a thousand years or so she'll be released for a trial...No doubt, she'll be sealed up again..."

"Serves her right..." Smorf muttered, "I think you should pitch that bottle into the Bog..."

Smorf said something else but by then Toby had tuned them out. He knew Elliott was a rock and that there was probably a way to communicate with him again...but the fact that he ended his own existence just to help Toby was...

Well, he thought it was something Sarah would do. If she was here, she'd be fighting tooth a nail to get her son back.

"Come," the Hunter ordered loudly behind Toby. The young man pushed himself once more to his feet and paused a moment to regard the strange man.

"Where?"

"Not the castle, if that's what you're thinking," the man glanced down at the vial, "I think you and your friends have done more than enough to deserve a little leniency in your challenge."

"I have to find—"

"—your nephew, I know. But you won't get into the castle looking like that. The guards were given specific instructions to arrest you upon arrival."

Great...he knew it wasn't going to be a picnic trying to get inside the castle but he'd been hoping Elliott would take part in the whole process of brainstorming...

After a moment, Toby nodded and took a step after the Hunter. The man had already pivoted on his heel, marching to the end of the alley with a hint of urgency. Toby's leg was _really_ starting hurt at this point but there was little he could do to remedy the injury until he found somewhere relatively safe to recuperate.

Smorf gave him a look of pity and hobbled alongside him as he limped after the Hunter.

He still had Smorf...but both of his companions had been volunteers in this challenge. Elliott even said so himself; he wasn't afraid of turning into dust. Toby just didn't think he would be the cause of his friend's demise...What about Smorf...É

"...Cheer up, Tommy. He was prepared to do anything to save you and your nephew."

"It wasn't in my intentions to let Tearsa destroy him. I failed him."

"He said he wasn't afraid to go."

"But he didn't _want_ to go."

"Yes he did," Smorf stopped and Toby paused to wait for him, "He wanted to die standing...so to speak. Didn't you ever get the feeling that he thought his existence as a stone was an unfulfilling one? I think if he had a choice, he would've chosen the short and noble path any day over the long and dreary one."

"I..."

"Argue it any way you like. Just, save your nephew. That was Elli's goal."

Toby nodded solemnly.

Elliott wouldn't want his destruction to hinder their journey. He was courageous for a rock...a great deal braver than Toby...

Still, it wasn't going to feel the same crossing the finish line without him...


	12. A brief reprieve

A/N: I apologize for the long delay—my old laptop died on me and took all my chapters with it. Add midterms and finals to the mix and you can probably tell I haven`t updated much of anything lately. Sorry about that. Now that it's the summer, though, you can expect to see the next few chapters sometimes soon (rather than two months later).

Title: The Unexpected (Chapter Twelve)

Fandom: Labyrinth

Spoilers: The movie

Rating: Pg-15 (-ish, since Toby has to deal with a bit of violence)

Disclaimer: I don't own the Labyrinth of anything related to it. I'm not making any money off this story.

Timeline: Takes place approximately _**twenty-two**_ _years_ from where the movie left off.

Summary: _Toby's always lived his life by the natural laws—laws of science and reason. The sudden disappearance of his newborn nephew, however, brings to light a whole new meaning of reality..._

Gossamer, despite the nature of her name, was not a fine thread or web found glittering on a cool lawn of grass during the calmer days of autumn. She was, of course, a goblin, short and a little stout, but not quite as beady eyed as Smorf and not half as ugly as the old folktales commonly described her people. She reminded Toby of a small white mouse, one which wore an apron sewn from several mismatched patches and carried a wooden spoon that was nearly half her size.

"You've killed him."

Toby wanted to point out that he was, in fact, _far_ from dead but his adrenaline rush was waning now and the stab-wound above his heart hurt something fierce. He fell twice on the journey to her crooked little house and wouldn't have been able to make it there if not for the Hunter's assistance.

Poking her head outside the door, small red eyes darting quickly up and down the street, Gossamer slammed the door shut and locked the bolt. According to the Hunter, the city's citizens shut themselves up inside their homes for the day as the king's army hunted for Tearsa. If Toby was spotted, they were ordered to arrest him and keep him away from the castle.

"You're safe here," the Hunter said as he inspected Tearsa's jar. The house was small and a bit cluttered, but Toby couldn't ignore the fact that it still felt cozy and warm. A little cauldron bubbled merrily above a fire in the hearth and several dried herbs and flowers hung from the rafters above his head—Gossamer, he supposed, was a healer of sorts.

"Safer here than your mother's arms," Gossamer added, "And correct me if I'm wrong, but that wound wouldn't happen to be from Tearsa's switch?"

"...It is."

"You've been poisoned then," she muttered, tugging on his shirt sleeve until he knelt in front of her. Gossamer's fingers glided over the faint scar beneath his eye but she didn't look too concerned about it. Her concentration, for the most part, was focused on his chest, "No worries, dear. I'll have you fixed in a jiffy."

"I don't have time," he replied apologetically. The hunger pangs were returning and doubted he'd be able to get back on his feet again if he took a moment to rest. "The sun's going to set in a couple of hours."

"The city's on high alert, boy. You'll have to slip inside during the celebration."

"They'll recognize that I'm a human. I'm not exactly as short as most of you."

Smorf laughed, "The King's invited an assortment of guests, Tommy, tall and short alike. Let her fix you up and I'll find you a costume."

"In the meantime, I have to return _this_ to the king," the Hunter added, shaking Tearsa's vial gently, "but I'll keep an eye out for you at the party, boy. You'll feel as good as new after Gossamer's done her magic."

Gossamer's mousy little face brightened at his words and she swatted at the air shyly before turning to inspect a shelf of bottles and jars. After a moment, she stole a tall, red bottle from the lowest sill. "This'll do, I think...Sit tight, my dear, while I draw up the bath."

"I..." Toby stopped himself short. A bath would ease the ache in his muscles, he supposed, and the smell of the Hunter's ointment was really starting to get to him...

Gossamer stole the cauldron off the fire with one hand and scurried into an adjacent room. Toby lifted the make-shift bag containing Elliott's piece and lowered it gently on to the table.

"...Is there any way I can fix him?"

"Stones get smaller, Tommy, not larger. If Elliott's still in there, he'll come to his senses when he's ready."

Of course, because a talking rock without a heartbeat or a pair of lungs couldn't exactly _die_...right?

Sighing, Toby watched as the Hunter tucked Tearsa's vial into one of his belt pouches and made for the door. "Thank you..." Toby called after his back, "for everything."

"The babe wasn't sent here out of contempt," the man replied, hand resting on the somewhat slanted doorknob, "and even though he's not your son, you'd break your back to save him. I think you are, quite possibly, one of the most selfless contestants this world has ever seen."

Toby wanted to thank him again but his throat felt alarmingly tight after the rare compliment. It sounded like something Sarah or his father would say.

Nodding his goodbye, the Hunter unbolted the door and slipped outside. Smorf locked it behind him and, taking a small handkerchief from one of his pockets, used it to stuff a wide crack in one of the shuttered windows. Toby had no doubt the streets would return to life once Tearsa was handed over to the king. He couldn't risk being seen until he had his disguise.

"All ready!" Gossamer announced as she bounced back into the room. She replaced the small cauldron over the fire, which, much to Toby's surprise, startled bubbling again as though none of the water had been used. "Jump in while the water's still warm."

Toby looked at Smorf but the goblin managed to speak first, "I'll wash up at my own house, Tommy. I'll be back later with the costume."

"Thank you."

"No need—it's not every day you get to see one of our parties."

Indeed.

Slipping into the bathing room, he closed the door quietly behind him and stared at Gossamer's _'bath'_. It was really a small pool of water built into the cold stone floor, a thin film of stream rising quietly from the bath. Stripping his clothes delicately, he took his time unravelling the gauze before stepping into the hot water. The cuts along his legs and feet smarted as soon as they were submerged but he manned up to the pain and took a deep breath before dunking his head under, resurfacing after a moment to begin the task of tenderly scrubbing the dirt and ointment from his body.

The water became murky; tinted red. He tried to maneuver carefully but his wounds began to burn and he felt somewhat nauseous.

Lifting himself a little out of the water, he craned his neck awkwardly to stare at his chest as Tearsa's wound began to hiss, a small trail of white smoke curling up toward the ceiling as though his flesh were on fire. Covering it with his hand, he waited a moment before rubbing it tenderly. When the pained eased up he examined it again to find a small ugly scar left in its place.

Gossamer's magic might've not healed him entirely, but it sure worked wonders. He'd have to thank her later.

After he had some clothes, of course.

-1-Jareth the Goblin King-1-

"You've become quite the djinn," Jareth muttered, "And after all I've done for you..."

Tearsa lifted her eyes to stare coldly at him from her place below the water's surface. The well was the only link he had to the woman (her body still trapped within the Hunter's vial) and there was no way for her to retaliate against him.

Not now or ever again.

Jareth examined her quietly for a moment. She could've chosen her human form—but here she was, a _beast_, just as feral as a rabid dog. Her distant red eyes studied his face with cool contempt. She was mad. Lost.

She'd been traveling a road to self destruction for quite some time now...

Tearsa, unlike many of the Labyrinth's other inhabitants, had become senescent over the years, letting herself grow old and cruel as she surrendered her humanity to the creature festering beneath her skin. She came to his kingdom looking for asylum, hiding from a world that was now just as cold and uncaring as she had allowed herself to become. He accepted her when he saw how fragile her thread of sanity was, a mistake he was certain never to make again.

Perhaps she was invidious of Toby's innocence. Jealous of the babe, too, he supposed. As delicate as her temper was, he hadn't seen her thirst for blood in years. After all, she behaved well enough when Sarah was here, not daring to show herself lest she be tempted to do something unforgiveable.

"This is hardly a peccadillo," he said with a sigh. "I think it's only fair that I leave the decision of your punishment to the young Williams."

"_You know I'll only try to kill him,"_ she growled.

"Indeed...But if he decides to return the favour, I might be tempted to look the other way. I spent a millennium ridding this place of the dybbuks and if you prove to be just as malevolent I'll have no choice but to bury your vial somewhere near the center of the earth." (**1**)

"_The earth won't hold me."_

"Death will," he warned, "and though I might be adverse to killing you myself, your safety will hardly be my responsibility if Hades sics one of its demons on you."

She growled again but the glow of her eyes had faded considerably after his threat. Jareth waited a moment (hoping) to see if she would regain her senses...but her image faltered and he was left with nothing but water.

Turning his back on the well, he traced a pattern on the damp wall of the dungeon cell with his finger and waited for a stray stone to move aside. Reaching within the damp space, he left Tearsa's vial there and waited for the stone to seal the gap again before heading up the stairs.

Toby was safe and so was the babe.

That's all that really mattered now.

-2-Toby Williams-2-

He stayed until the water cooled and the throbbing pain of Tearsa's wound faded to a dull ache. Part of him didn't want to move (just wanted to stay and soak in Gossamer's soothing remedy) but he heard the bustle of the Goblin City outside the shuttered windows and thought of Jonathon waiting patiently for him behind the castle walls. He was close now—closer than he ever could've hoped to achieve—and yet his mind wandered back to the missing piece of the puzzle and the loop hole Elliott told him about before his untimely demise. If this really _wasn't_ a game (nothing more than a goblin trick) then all he needed to do was to find proof of his suspicions and call the king's bluff...

And then what? Do the whole thing over again?

No—well, _not exactly_ the whole thing. First and foremost, he had to bargain for Jonathon's freedom. Everything else could wait until after his nephew was returned home safely.

Alright...and after that?

"Your friend's back!" Gossamer's muffled voice announced through the door. She knocked against the wood gently to make sure she had his attention and then added, "He found you an interesting the costume..."

Interesting, indeed...

"I look grim..." Toby murmured fifteen minutes later as he opened one of the shutters and peeked out at the people on the streets. They came in all shapes and sizes, some tall and lanky, others short and plump, all decorated in foreign fabrics of rich and exotic colours.

A bird-like creature, which reminded him very much of a crane, bent its neck in half to peck at something on the ground near its feet. Several blue gems glittered from the crown of its head and around its eyes. Like a mask.

Toby closed the window before it could spot him, but not before he caught a glimpse of the gold sash tied around its waist.

Glancing at his own mask, sitting idle on the table beside his new hat and one of Elliott's older chips, Toby took in its black simplicity and couldn't help but think of how much it truly suited him. In all honesty, Toby didn't expect to receive such a costume. He thought (_hopefully_) that Smorf would slip him inside discretely through the kitchens as a busboy or some sort of waiter...

"I think you look fine," Smorf squealed excitedly. His spear and armour had somehow been returned to him and he looked significantly cleaner since they entered the city. A small red scarf was wound around his neck, probably as an addition for the celebration.

Toby brushed off a piece of lint from his grey waistcoat and snatched the brocade frock coat from the back of Gossamer's easy chair, slipping into the comfortable fabric with silent appreciation for its seemingly perfect fit. It's cuffs were wide, the stand-up collar was short and stiff, and the jacket was trimmed with gold braiding to match its buttons. It was black, of course, to match the dark riding trousers and boots, and his hat would've completed the look if not for the small white feather tucked inside it's band.

"If you want, you can ditch the mask," Smorf added just as Toby lifted it to his face.

Hesitating for a moment, he eventually tied the string behind his head. "I think I _have to_, Smorf."

"The hat's enchanted."

That gave Toby reason to pause. "How—"

"I ran into the Hunter at the palace when I went to replace my armour," the goblin explained. "He helped me find most of the suit—said that no one can remember you so long as you wear it."

"...What do you mean?"

"People will see you, of course, but as long as you don't cause a ruckus they'll forget about you in the next twenty seconds...Except for the king," Smorf added as an afterthought, "I don't think he can find you outright in a crowd but as soon as he sees you he won't miss you again."

"That doesn't matter. As soon as we meet, this adventure will be over."

"...Really?"

Well...not _quite_, but Toby would breathe easier as soon as he knew Jonathon was safe at home with his mother and father.

Swiping the hat off the table—and bowing to kiss the back of Gossamer's hand thankfully—he settled it on his head and felt the magic settle around him like a second skin. The familiarity of its touch probably would've been more alarming had he not spent the last four days running around the Labyrinth.

The look that Smorf gave him, though, was a little disconcerting.

"I..."

Toby waited patiently for a moment, hoping desperately that there wasn't going to be another setback in his plans. "Yes?"

"It's just...I have a tidbit of information," the goblin revealed, "but it's not really important. I'll tell you later."

'_Why later?'_

As desperately as Toby wanted to hear it now, he trusted Smorf to tell him when the time was right (should that time ever come). He knew, between arguing with Elliott and facing the sudden perils of their journey, Smorf had been interrupted more than once when he had something that needed to be said.

"...Alright," Toby replied, "Shall we go?"

The goblin nodded, shifting the weight of his helmet on his head as Toby reached for Elliott's chip. The younger Williams dropped it inside one of his coat pockets and headed to the door.

Unlocking the bolt, Toby turned the crooked knob and stepped out into the streets. Together they followed the wave of misfits to the Goblin King's castle, the final destination in their long and weary journey...

Even if it they hadn't realized yet that it was only half over.

A/N: 1) a _dybbuk _is a type of demon (or lost soul) that can possess another living being. They are removed through exorcisms.

Alright—more action and whatnot in the next chapter. Old problems are solved and new ones arise...


	13. The defeat of Toby Williams

Title: The Unexpected (Chapter Twelve)

Fandom: Labyrinth

Spoilers: The movie

Rating: Pg-15 (-ish, since Toby has to deal with a bit of violence)

Disclaimer: I don't own the Labyrinth of anything related to it. I'm not making any money off this story.

Timeline: Takes place approximately _**twenty-two**_ _years_ from where the movie left off.

Summary: _Toby's always lived his life by the natural laws—laws of science and reason. The sudden disappearance of his newborn nephew, however, brings to light a whole new meaning of reality..._

"Don't touch that."

The toady little sergeant held his finger at the ready, prepared to poke the delicate crystal ball as soon as his curiosity got the better of him, and paused only to contemplate the consequences of disobeying the king before meekly lowering his arm. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he realized that touching it probably wasn't the best idea.

"What's it for?"

"The gatekeepers," Jareth explained as he lifted it gently from its perch on the arm of his throne, turning it with a certain air of interest as he examined it in the light, "It turns foggy in response to a lie."

"...What kind of fly?"

Jareth suppressed the urge to roll his eyes and merely handed the crystal down to one of the other sergeants, a taller weasel-like creature with a ridiculously large shield strapped to its back. "Take this to them. And tell them not to drop it."

The goblin saluted, curling its hand gently around its frail surface before pivoting sharply on its heel. Stamping once, it marched off hurriedly to fulfill its orders.

"Go," Jareth told the other goblin, dismissing him with the wave of his hand, "Gather your men and station them around the ballroom. If they see Toby, I want to be informed immediately."

But something changed behind the sergeant's eyes just as he prepared to scurry off, a _flick_ of sorts in the back of his mind. He stood there in a moment of confusion before everything began to fall into place. His family was well-known for their constant fluctuation between wisdom and idiocy, the result of a curse placed on his great great grandfather many years ago. "...If you think he's going to make it to the ballroom, why are you using the crystal?"

"Toby may be an intellectual contestant but his companions have their faults—and that's ignoring the promise Smorf made to his captain before abandoning the royal guard. If they manage to fail this challenge for him, I can keep both Toby and the babe."

"And if he makes it inside?"

Jareth smiled, just a little quirk at the corner of his lips that revealed the more roguish nature of his kind. Just as his sergeant began dissecting the look, the switch inside his brain _flicked_ again and he was left feeling numb. He shivered as the king turned away.

"If he makes it inside..." Jareth murmured quietly, "...fate will only permit me to keep _one_."

-1-Toby Williams-1-

He bounced on the balls of his feet as he and Smorf stood squashed side-by-side within the sea of creatures waiting outside the castle gates. He kept his head down, the brim of his hat casting a dark shadow across his face, and glanced periodically at Smorf to make sure no one had stomped on him yet.

The patrons of the Labyrinth were, to say the least, alarmingly tall. And _large_.

Slowly, but surely, the crowd edged forward as another group of fiends was permitted access to the castle grounds. A masked woman (one which was _human_ in appearance but—as Toby learned from Tearsa—could easily be a savage beast hiding behind the folds of her blue satin dress) chatted loudly with one of her companions just a few steps behind him. Hearing the word _'babe'_ more than once, his heart leaped up into his throat, a terrible sense of impatience settling in the pit of his gut.

He was _this_ close to saving Jonathon...

Tempted by the conversation, Toby glanced over his shoulder at the woman in question, the long red ringlets of her hair falling expertly around the golden horns of her devil mask. Unfolding her fan with a subtle flick of the wrist, she fanned herself coyly when she noticed that she'd caught his attention—before a sort of misty look overtook her eyes, a glaze that reminded him eerily of someone passing away. In a second or two, though, she looked as though she couldn't remember what exactly she was doing.

Her friend, who hadn't spotted Toby yet, snapped her out of the trance when she tapped her on the arm.

The hat, undoubtedly, could really hide him from the general public.

"You're really tempting fate, you know that?"

"I'm sorry," Toby murmured, "I'm nervous. I'm so close..."

Smorf snorted in a particular way of his and tilted his helmet back to get a better look at Toby, "Alright then—what's the game plan?"

"As soon as we're past the gate, we need to find the king."

"Why, so you can get _caught_?"

"Exactly."

Smorf snorted again. "You're nuts."

"You don't understand, I can't save Jonathon unless I confront him."

"What's stopping him from locking you up until sundown? You are, after all, competing against each other."

"He can't. I'm not sure _why_, but it's there...on the tip of my tongue. The Hunter mentioned something when we first met and now I can't remember what it was..."

"Something that's stopping the king from touching you?"

"Yes."

"But the Labyrinth's already taken hold of you. You don't _age_ and you seem particularly well-adjusted to that hat of yours."

Yes...he was, actually. And wasn't that odd? Toby had always been a man of science and reason—he found it hard to believe in things that he couldn't perceive with his natural senses, and yet...

"You were going to say something to me earlier, Smorf. What was it?"

"Oh, uh, well..." Smorf tilted his head down suddenly, one large, clawed toe digging at the ground nervously like a five-year-old caught with his hand stuck in the cookie jar. "About your _perception_ of magic..."

Whatever it was Smorf was about to say, he never got the chance to finish—someone came barrelling at them from behind and Toby was forced through the crowd several feet before falling to his knees. The hat on his head was almost knocked loose and the only thing that kept it in place was the hand he used to brace it against the top of his head.

Several of the goblin citizens shrieked in protest at the sudden disruption, men, women and odd-things alike trying to collect their pride and dignity as they pushed themselves up onto their feet. Toby had straightened himself again and began dusting his knees off just as Smorf scurried between the legs of several beings to return to his side, clearly feeling a bit jolted by the unexpected attack.

Turning sharply (and _hoping_ it wasn't some creature sent to hinder him), Toby came face to face with a large furry beast, one which looked more like a yeti than anything else save for the long kangaroo-like tail wagging slowly side-to-side behind it. Toby gaped for a second, finding himself at a loss for words, when the beast decided to speak first.

"_Ludo sorry..."_ It bellowed, drawing out the two words with a great deal of emphasis on the 'y' at the end.

"It's...no problem. Really..."

The thing smiled (or, at least, it _looked _as though it was smiling) before turning about-face to lumber off in another direction. This time, however, the crowd was ready for its advance and the citizens dodged aside as it dragged itself toward the far left of the castle gates. Off in the distance, Toby saw a strange white figure waving a sword manically from atop the palace walls, shouting something that sounded a hell of a lot like _'—the return of the babe!'_

_Ludo_...Ludo was from the book, wasn't he? Or, at least, the version that Sarah told him...

"Who's that?" Toby asked, pointing to the wild figure on the parapet that was steadily dancing out of sight. The small creature looked as though its steed was a dog, "I remember these characters..."

" '_Characters'_ is a good word," Smorf muttered. "That's Sir Didymus up there. He's enjoyed driving the soldiers nuts ever since he invaded the castle for Sa—"

"_You two! Get over here!"_

Smorf and Toby turned their heads in unison to see that the crowd ahead of them had managed to get through the gates. They were next.

"Already?" Smorf wondered aloud.

"You don't hear me complaining."

The soldier that summoned them was a weasel—in the _literal_ sense of the word, of course. The shield strapped to its back was abnormally large but the creature was at least a foot taller than Smorf and even beadier than Toby's companion. In its hand it held a small crystal, flanked on either side by two trolls.

Toby wasn't exactly fond of trolls...

"_You_—" the goblin shouted, pointing its spindly finger at Toby, "Is your name Toby Williams?"

For a second, Toby was almost caught off guard. He opened his mouth to reply but stopped himself at the last moment and said "Uh..." instead.

" '_Uh'_ is not an answer!" the weasel shrieked. In the blink of an eye, its focus darted over to Smorf. "Soldier—what do you call him?"

"Tommy!" Smorf piped merrily.

...And never in his life had Toby ever been so glad for the constant bastardization of his name...

The weasel's beady eyes glazed over for a moment, very much like the woman's had, before he glanced at the small orb as though the fate of the universe was written inside of it...Nothing happened. At least, nothing Toby could see...

"Move along..." the weasel muttered finally—and they slipped between the guards before the goblin could change its mind.

The soles of his boots patted quietly against the stone stairs leading up to the entrance of the castle. The two tall wooden doors standing sentinel at the top were both pulled entirely open, gentle music drifting out into the cool afternoon air as the pale sky glowed gently with the stirrings of sunset's blush.. Already, Toby could see a shift from blue to yellow just above the castle walls.

"We need to hurry," he murmured to Smorf as the goblin bounded up the stairs behind him, "Do you know where to find the king?"

"Uh...besides the throne room, I'm not exactly sure—but the Hunter says he plans to make a speech about the babe just before sundown."

Of course—because Jareth probably knew Toby was there. Jareth also knew what was wrong with the challenge...

"What about the babe, Smorf?"

"Uh...that it's his heir."

Toby stopped suddenly, mid-step, and Smorf collided with the back of his left leg. _"What?!"_

A tall peacock following passing by paused to stare at Toby before the effect of his hat drew its attention elsewhere. He probably shouldn't shout. One of the guards might take a particular interest in him next.

"Mind your voice, Tommy..."

"But that's my _nephew_..." Toby hissed between clenched teeth, starting back up the stairs at a quicker pace. Smorf struggled to keep in step. "How _dare _he assume I would just let him keep Jonathon...As if I came all this way for the hell of it..."

"_Calm down_, Tommy."

But he couldn't. He'd never felt this frustrated before—not since his mother told him jazz was for fools, and that if he _ever_ thought of giving up his shot at studying something prestigious like science for the sake of becoming a musician, she'd pack him away to a private school before he could say _'fiddlesticks'_—not since she said Sarah was a daydreamer that would never amount up to anything more than a home-body and a closet writer.

He felt his blood boil, felt the heat of his rage spread up along the sides of his throat toward his face. There was a bit of embarrassment mixed in with his frustration, and the guilt of leading his nephew into danger in the first place. Sarah was going to strangle him the moment she laid eyes on him. The Lord only knew, she had every right to want to kill him.

That was, of course, if he didn't pitch himself headfirst into the chasm before she caught wind of the incident.

—And really, how long _were_ these stairs?

Ten more to go and he found himself at the very top, not quite out of breath (unlike Smorf, who needed a moment or two to collect himself) but feeling none the less flustered.

"Tommy, _please_...Jonathon's not going to be his heir. It's okay."

"No...It's not okay until we find him."

"Then we'll find him."

Toby chewed on the inside of his cheek, glancing down at Smorf apologetically. He said nothing, but the look wasn't lost on his friend.

"...Come on, Tommy. I'll show you the ballroom."

"Smorf—"

"I know. You've been very patient these last four days—and incredibly tolerant, considering you let a _goblin_ guide you to the king's castle."

"I think you've been as equally patient with me..." Toby murmured quietly as Smorf dove headfirst into the crowd before them.

The main entrance was packed with the same speckled variety of creatures Toby found wandering through the streets earlier in the day. Monsters, hybrids, abnormally large critters—the list was endless, but their attendance was to be expected. The men and women, decked in gowns of silk and jackets of intricate designs, surprised him more. Ghoulish masks glared at him from under the chandelier's glow as feeble candlelight danced across the banquet tables, casting eerie shadows against the figures wandering about the dance floor. He was trapped in a sea of jaded colours that were either too rich or too dark to support the sense of elation Toby expected to find in a normal celebration.

There was glitter in the air, its source unknown, drifting down from the ceiling with the careless mien of snow. Its presence gave the room a surreal atmosphere: careless, cold—dangerous, even, like an airborne opiate that numbed the senses. It added a chimerical glow to everything in the room.

Toby wandered through the swarm of denizens mingling in the dim mist, eyes flickering across the monsters and the masks in search of something familiar. Ghoulish shadows stretched out across the walls, dancing with the firelight, some of them moving unnaturally in comparison to the poses of their owners. One fiend stood alone by a pillar situated near the far wall, leaning idly on his cane. His shadow, however, had its arms raised high above its head, fingertips sharp like the fine tips of surgical knives.

Toby averted his eyes immediately, drifting over the crowd again until he spotted the strange beast from before standing just beyond the entrance to the ballroom.

Ludo.

He pardoned his way through the sea of visitors, their eyes lingering on him no more than a few seconds, until he broke into the small open space around the tall creature. The dog from before (Sir Didymus, was it?) was munching on a rather large piece of cheese, mumbling about how excellent this brand was between bites. Ludo was chewing on something as well—but swallowed it as soon as it noticed Toby.

"You've fought the king before?" he asked quietly, anxious despite the protection the hat provided him.

Ludo leaned forward suddenly and sniffed his neck. Back-peddling, Toby managed to collect himself before he stepped on the long train of a woman's dress.

The creature's eyes widened suddenly and it turned sharply (albeit inelegantly) to tug on the sleeve of its companion. "_Sarah_!"

Sarah?

...

_Sarah_?

_His_ Sarah?

Frozen in place, he tried to wrap his brain around the nugget of information as Sir Didymus' eyes fell on him. The creature stared at him curiously for a moment.

"You know Sarah?" Toby breathed, feeling just a little light-headed from the surprise. "Sarah Williams?"

"The one and only!" Sir Didymus declared. Seemingly accustomed to these kinds of outbursts, the crowd ignored him.

But how? The book? Did the story really have that much power in the real world?

'_Real'_ world...Why did that sound bizarre to him? Sarah wrote fiction for a living. She _had_ to have visited the Labyrinth (at least once). The stories she told him...the inspirations for her books...

Oh God.

"Can you contact her?" Toby asked suddenly, just as the dog's attention began to slip. The creature looked away from him briefly before fixing its eyes on him again, jolted when it realized he was still standing there.

"Can I offer you my assistance, my lord?"

"Sarah Williams—can you contact her?"

"My lady must first call upon me or one of her other companions, sir, but yes, communication with the maiden is simple enough."

Toby reached around his head and untied his mask. Reaching out for Sir Didymus' hand, he placed the trinket in his palm and knelt before his sister's old friend. Lifting his hat briefly, he leaned down closer to whisper in the creature's ear.

"Should Sarah Williams contact you or any of her other companions concerning the disappearance of her brother, make sure she gets this. Tell her that she's not to make a deal with anyone under any circumstances."

Fixing the hat back on his head, he stood and watched the dog's face for any kind of reaction. Eyes wide, it stared at the mask in his palm before looking up at Toby. "Y-you...have you challenged the Labyrinth?"

He nodded.

"Then don't give up!" it snapped. "_Ever_! In this world there are no draws. Someone must _always_ win and someone must always—"

"Lose," he finished. And then it clicked.

All of it.

Sir Didymus opened his mouth to speak again but it blanked out a moment later, looking around wildly as though it couldn't remember what it was doing. Glancing at the mask in its hand, it quickly grabbed a fistful of Ludo's fur and tugged the beast after it into the crowd.

Toby watched them retreat.

Turning, he found Smorf waiting quietly behind him.

"...Is this what you wanted to tell me? That my sister challenged the king?"

Smorf scratched his ear nervously. "Yes...but that's only half the story."

"Then what's the other half?"

"I _promised_," he whined sadly. "They said I could help you so long as I kept my maw shut. I promised..."

"It's alright, Smorf..."

"_No_," he all but cried. "You've been so nice to me—nicer than some of my own kind."

"I have no one to blame for this mess but myself," he sighed. "At least now I know what I did wrong..."

"Wrong? When?"

"When we met the wishing well."

"What—"

"It doesn't matter," he said, taking notice of how the crowd seemed to be pressing closer to the stairs at the end of the ballroom. Soldiers were lining up, the doors at the top were gradually being drawn open. "Look—I have to deal with the king myself. If you see my sister, I want you to do all that you can to help her."

"Sarah's coming here?"

"I hope not. But if she does, please fill in the blanks for her."

Smorf blinked...then saluted. "I promise."

"Thank you."

A trumpet sounded at the end of the room and Toby was greeted with the image of the king.

A wave of familiarity hit him. Maybe it was just the way Sarah told her story...maybe it was because he finally had a face to attach to the voice of the cloaked-figure in the dragon's lair, Toby couldn't say. The Goblin King was...

One of the soldiers announced the king's arrival and everyone bowed, Toby and Smorf included. But he kept his face up, eyes fixed on his majesty as he made his royal entrance.

If Toby had never seen the Labyrinth or any of it occupants before, he probably would've pegged the king as eccentric. In retrospect, though, the king's garb matched the atmosphere. Dark and intense. The black riding trousers and knee-high boots were actually plain in comparison to the flare of his cravat and the silver embroidery on his frock coat. His hair, which was light and reminded Toby of an 80's rock-star get-up, matched the fine line of his eye make-up. The staff tucked under his arm (placed there momentarily as he fixed his gloves) was topped off with a small crystal orb, refracting the weak light of the room into several small speckles of colour as he stepped down to the middle step of the stairs.

"Ladies and gentlemen..." the king began, his voice accented with a hint of amusement as his eyes scanned the crowd. Toby remembered, vaguely, that the king would be able to recognize him if he saw him, despite the power of the hat's enchantment. "A little more than twenty mortal years—"

"Tommy!" Smorf cried, tugging viciously on the tail of his coat. "Tommy, _please_, you should just run. I have enough power to push you back—"

"Smorf, I _can't_. I'm not going anywhere."

"_Please_. I know you're going to make a bargain with the king, but he _always_ gets what he wants."

"Always?" Toby asked incredulously.

"Well...except for Sarah."

He blinked.

Sarah...? But...but—how _old_ was she when she came to the Labyrinth?

"—of Sarah," the king said, and Toby's attention immediately snapped back to him. "Having challenged—"

"Oh, _hell_," Toby hissed, reaching up to grab the brim of his hat.

Smorf tensed beside him and tugged violently on his sleeve this time. "Tommy, _don't_!"

"Smorf, I'm sorry."

"—the babe from so many years ago..."

And then he took the hat off.

The king's eyes snapped to him almost immediately. The corner of his lip curled up into a satisfied little smirk and he gestured in Toby's direction with a small wave of his hand. "...the heir to the throne, Toby Williams."

-2-Jareth the Goblin King-2-

The eyes are the windows to the soul.

The young Toby Williams' spoke volumes.

His overall expression was well contained, jaw set, brows furrowed delicately into a wary look—but a brief flash of anger marred his cool composure and Jareth was painfully reminded of Sarah in that one precious moment. He looked like her...despite sharing only one parent. Slender and pale, with sharp features and a straight posture, Toby was very much like his sister indeed. The differences, however, came with the lighter shade of his hair and the grey-blue hint in his eyes, the complete opposite of Sarah's dark beauty. He was thinner too. And tired.

Here was a boy that was forced to grow up at a ridiculously young age.

His eyes, however, were what drew Jareth in. There was too much going on behind them—too many thoughts; worries. Jareth's announcement had undoubtedly come to him as a shock but he was doing a splendid job of hiding his surprise. For now, of course. There was only so much stress one man could take before he buckled under the pressure.

As the crowd's focus shifted to Toby, apparently alarmed by the declaration, Jareth grabbed the crystal at the end of his staff and tossed it down the stairs. It clinked loudly on each step, almost every eye snapping immediately to its attention, until it shattered as it hit the dance floor. And then no one seemed to notice Toby or Jareth at all. Even Smorf stumbled away from his newfound friend in confusion, the enchanted hat from the Hunter clutched close to his chest.

"Congratulations," Jareth said over the hum of his guests. Despite the noise, his voice was carried to Toby. "You found me."

The young man said nothing. The anger in his eyes was replaced with fatigue, exhaustion taking its toll on his body as the finish line finally came into view. He looked downcast.

Of course.

Toby was an intellect, after all. It only made sense that he would have discovered the flaw in the challenge by now...

"I assume you would prefer it if we continued this conversation in private," Jareth offered. Then he held out his hand. "Come. Your nephew is waiting."

Toby remained silent for a moment, his gaze following Smorf as the goblin stumbled into the crowd. As soon as the creature disappeared from sight he looked at Jareth, his exhaustion evidently overruled by his determination.

And then he stepped forward.

The game was over.

-3-Toby Williams-3-

Even without the hat, no one appeared to notice him. The path before him was clear and he walked quietly toward the bottom step, his eyes trained on the king's back as the man ascended into the darkness of the room at the top of the stairs. The guards stood at attention as he followed, each of them as equally dazed as the company below, none of them seeming to be aware of him as he passed.

He stepped lightly through the dark hallway, eyes fixed on the light at the end of the proverbial tunnel. When he reached it, he found himself in the throne room, a large circular area that dipped near the center as though it were a small arena. The room, despite the messy attire of some of the guards, was almost spotless, long red carpets laid out along the floor leading to the throne.

No one was there.

There was a creaking noise behind him and Toby turned to see the giant doors swinging shut slowly at the end of the hall. But he wasn't trapped. He needed to be here—needed to find Jonathon.

Stepping further into the room, he paused when he passed one of the tall windows, the cool evening air brushing against his face as he watched the sun dip lazily behind the horizon. The sky stayed alight, the mystic shades of twilight burning the distant lands in the west.

He leaned against the frame to watch the last feeble glow of the day fade into darkness.

"Two Williams..." Jareth mused behind him, a certain air of amusement in his voice, "both victors of the Labyrinth...I think your father would be proud."

"Someone has to lose," Toby replied. "And unlike Sarah, I didn't challenge you."

He challenged himself.

"Nothing ventured, nothing gained. 'To err is human' I believe..."

"I completed the challenge," Toby pointed out, ignoring the king's banter as he turned to face the man. "I made it through the Labyrinth. Now, I want you to send Jonathon home."

Jareth smiled. "Of course...but you _do_ realize that there is a price to pay for your anomalous defeat? Sending your nephew home finalizes your imprisonment here."

"Not quite," he argued, suddenly aware of the weight of Elliott's chip in his pocket. The stone's advice had prepared him for this incident, at least. "I'm guessing the Labyrinth wasn't supposed to permit me to begin the challenge until you gave the word. Everyone else seems to challenge you directly."

Jareth's smile wavered but he didn't look the least bit nervous. "Whether or not the Labyrinth was mistaken, you cannot leave this place."

"Yet," he corrected. "I'm not stuck here permanently."

"Of course, you're more than welcome to take the challenge again."

"Precisely."

"But it isn't as simple as that..." The king looked past him at the sky. "Since this is your second run, I'm allowed to pick the starting date. And when do you think that will be, a year from now—maybe fifty? When you've defeated the Labyrinth and gained your freedom, you'll return home to find your friends and family old and crippled. Would you dare to approach them then, a strange young man unmarred by the sands of time, an anomaly of your mortal world?"

Toby's hands curled into fists, nails digging into the tender flesh of his palms. The pain, however, was nothing in comparison to the several other scrapes he'd received during his journey. "...What is it you want? Revenge against my sister?"

"I've always been quite fond of Sarah," Jareth admitted quietly. "Sarah and I have unfinished business...but this matter is between just the two of us. Many years ago, she lost you to the Labyrinth. I promised myself then that you would be named my heir apparent."

"But you're closer to immortality than anyone else I know. Why would you need an heir?"

"Not even _I_ am immune to death." The king waved his hand in exasperation. "Even if I live for another hundred thousand years I can't be everywhere at once. The Labyrinth requires a great deal of attention."

"From what I've seen, it hasn't fallen apart yet."

"In structure, perhaps, but this is a solitary place..." The king drew his eyes away from the window and focused on Toby's face instead. "You are a knowledgeable person, a new, sensible individual in this world of illusions and chaos. Now that you've been fixed in time, I believe there are a great many things you and I can discuss over the years."

The king's persistence reminded him terribly of his mother. There were a couple of things about the woman that frustrated him to no end. "I've been a little bitter almost all my life. Do you really want to find out how long I can hold a grudge?"

"The Hunter forgave me eventually. You will too, I believe."

"And it never occurred to you that I might prefer a simple life?"

"Not if you can't remember how simple your life was before you came here."

Toby held his breath. His mind suddenly latched onto the memory of the dragon's lair and the peach the king offered him in exchanged for a way across the chasm. His heart ached at the thought of losing his childhood memories again.

"I think I've learned my lesson with regards to fruit," Toby muttered.

"I'm being generous here. You can start the challenge as soon as you want—make this deal with me and I'll give you another favour. My will is bound by my word."

Toby felt something stir in the air, almost as though the man could actually be held accountable for his promises. The man's gaze never faltered.

"...How many of my memories are you going to take?"

Jareth shifted his weight to one leg, leaning to the side mischievously. "All of them. Nothing pertaining to your education—your _science_ or your religion—but anything and everything with regard to your friends and family will belong solely to me. Even the misfits that joined you on your journey will be forgotten."

"If I can't remember why I came here, how is any of this fair? If I've got nothing to return to, why would I challenge you?"

"If you don't accept, we could always start the challenge in another hundred years or so..."

But he was nothing without his family. Sarah, his father...oh, Lord, he was going to propose to Susan this Christmas...

Jareth laughed. "We'll see if the heart can remember what the mind forgets. Love conquers all, doesn't it?"

"...You said I would get another favour."

"Of course."

Two can play at this game. "I don't want to be saved."

The king blinked. After a second or two, he shifted his weight to the other foot. "Why not?"

"If anyone comes looking for me, I don't want you to touch them. I don't want anyone bargaining for my freedom either—namely Sarah."

Jareth frowned. "Then what's stopping her from telling you to start the challenge?"

"What will it matter if I can't remember who she is?"

The king smiled bitterly for a moment. It was obvious that he had been plotting to twine his sister's _'unfinished business'_ with Toby's own trouble, but at least this way Toby could keep his family free of the man for the time being. It was a small consolation considering how long it was probably going to take him to complete the challenge a second time.

"...Very well." Jareth's hand slipped behind his back, revealing it a moment later with a peach in his grasp. This he offered to Toby. "Do we have a deal?"

"...Can I say goodbye to my nephew first?"

After all, he may very well never see him again.

Jareth gestured to his throne and Toby turned to see a bundle lying there on the seat. He found himself on the other side of the room in a heartbeat, the small figure of his baby nephew cradled carefully in the crook of his arm as the infant cooed quietly to him in childish glee.

As tired as Jonathon was, he reached for Toby's face with one of his tiny hands, smiling peacefully when his uncle leaned down to kiss him gently on the forehead. This was victory enough for now, just holding Jonathon, knowing that he was safe and sound—and on his way home...

"Your sister will be arriving soon," Jareth said behind him. "I slowed time in this world considerably for your journey but halting the events in your reality is far beyond my control."

"Say hi to Sarah for me," Toby whispered to the babe before kissing him again.

"Leave him on the throne. You can't be touching him when I send him back."

As reluctant as he was to let go of his nephew, Toby settled the bundle gently on the throne before taking a small step back...

"...The peach." Jareth reminded him.

He turned his head briefly to face the king before glancing at his nephew again...It pained him to find Jonathon missing, even though he knew the child was home again...

He had nothing to say when Jareth grabbed his wrist and tugged his hand forward to place the peach in it. The man watched him carefully as Toby lifted the fruit to his mouth, taking a small bite, one which he swallowed whole. Its sugary sweetness stuck to his throat...

An all-too-familiar chill crept up along his spine and ended at the base of his skull, the pressure increasing inside his head. Fleeting thoughts, precious memories, reminiscences of times both bitter and sweet—all of it—began slipping like sand from between his fingers as the peach's magic took hold over his mind. It felt as though he was waking from a long and tender dream, one which drifted away before he could get a better grasp on it. All that was left were random thoughts and logic: a job he went to with people that had no faces, lessons learned from school in a class full of nameless students, a piano that was soundless when his fingers touched the keys, a woman who he could neither see nor hear nor feel—

There was a moment where he was sure he must have passed out, even if it was only for a second. His head spun but the hand on his shoulder held him steady, a tall figure standing over him from where he sat on a throne.

And then Toby began his life anew.

Though he had no reason to believe he had ever been alive to begin with...

A/N: The end—I'm kidding! I'm not that cruel.

Anyhow, I'm sorry it was so long. I was going to end it sooner but since I haven't updated in a while I think you deserved something a little longer than my usual song and dance.

If you see any mistakes feel free to poke/ridicule me.


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